


Bread, Salt & Wine

by Gowombat83



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Casual Sex, Drunk Dancing, F/M, Falling In Love, Finally, First Kiss, Fluff and Mush, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, In the Fade, Light Angst, Lovers to Friends, Modern Girl in Thedas, Mutual Pining, Near Death, Pining, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, ambiguous beginning, break-up drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 08:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 41,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13477845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gowombat83/pseuds/Gowombat83
Summary: When Amrita and Rylen decide to end their casual arrangement, she finds herself falling for a certain lion-eyed Commander.**slow updates because it's SPRING :D **





	1. A Fond Farewell

Being with Rylen was easy. They had an understanding; their relationship was what it was and neither felt the need to complicate things. It served a purpose. These were stressful times, and with the move to Skyhold affording the Inquisition more room to expand, their responsibilities within the movement only continued to grow heavier. What they offered each other was relief.

Amrita was honest enough with herself though to admit he was more than competent in the sack, and that, as much as the cathartic benefits of their trysts, was reason enough to keep going back. He was pleasant enough company; affable, charming in his own unpolished way, and he made her laugh.

They spent the occasional evening unwinding, sometimes with a meal or a drink before they invariably made it to the bed for a thorough and satisfying tumble. All in all it was a comfortable arrangement, she didn’t even mind that he wanted for someone else, when in truth she herself craved another. They each knew that the other would, if given the chance, choose the object of their respective desires but in the meantime they were content to enjoy a little respite together.

So when Rylen discovered that he was to be stationed at the recently liberated Griffin Wing Keep in the Western Approach, where Lysette had already been relocated, they had mutually agreed that it was time to wrap things up.

Tussled from their latest enthusiastic coupling, sweat still cooling on their skin, he’d raised the subject of his new posting. She lay splayed across his broad chest, course dark hair tickling her cheek as his fingers threaded lethargically through her silken tresses.

“So lass, will you miss me?”

“You know I will, but if you have half a chance of getting your girl Ry you know I can’t be in the picture. Plus,” she shrugged an elegant bare shoulder, “the long distance thing never works.  Better to be a clean break now than a mess later on.”

“Aye, you’re right. Still, we had some fun together, didn’t we?”

Amrita turned her head to press an affectionate kiss over his sternum, then a few more, tracing along the twisting tendrils of his tattoo across his hard muscled shoulder, “Yes, we really did,” she hummed into his neck, enjoying the feel of his stubble against her delicate skin.

He drew lazy circles over the creamy expanse of her back, the rough and calloused hands sent little shivers through her as they lay in companionable silence soaking in each others warmth. Her lithe pale form a stark contrast to his tanned and rugged bulk, yet somehow they fit so neatly together as he cradled her in the crook of one arm. In her hazy afterglow Amrita sang softly- a song from home- it just felt right to her in that moment.

_Out of all the nights I remember_   
_Of all of the loves I recall_   
_There are many who live in my memory_   
_But you were the sweetest of all_

_Wasn't it sweetest of all babe_   
_Wasn't it sweetest of all_   
_I wasn't your first love, I wasn't your last_   
_But wasn't it sweetest of all_

_So keep your goodbyes in your pocket_   
_You ain't going nowhere at all_   
_Your memory is staying here with me_   
_'Cause you were the sweetest of all._

After a time she felt him shift, and looking up she caught the mischievous glint that brightened his impossibly blue eyes.

“One more for the road, lass?” he asked, his crows feet deepening in amusement as he suggestively rolled to poke his stiffening length into her side.

She chuckled, folding her arms over his chest and rested her chin to look up into that familiar warm gaze, “I wouldn’t expect anything less. If this is the last time, I guess we’d better make it a good one, yes?”

“Oh, aye, Rita,” he smirked, gripping her ribs with his strong capable hands, and hoisting her up to straddle him in one quick motion. The sudden move elicited a startled squeal from her, followed by her rich throaty laughter, “I’ll make it so good, you won’t soon forget old Rylen was once ‘tween these _delectable_ thighs.”

She laughed again at his cheeky grin as he drew his palms down her sides to grasp her hips. She could feel every ripple of his washboard stomach beneath her as he held his upper back off the bed to spread her open with his thumbs and take in the sight of her welcoming pink centre. Lifting, he positioned her over his reawakened shaft, and she braced her hands on his hard chest as he lowered her down onto the broad purple bulb. Still slick from their earlier activites, she took him to the hilt in one smooth glide and they both groaned at the familiar feel of each other. Not needing any time to adjust they began to move together, setting an easy rolling pace. They were in no hurry, content to enjoy each other this one last time.

 It was almost sweet, but as with the man himself sweetness only went so far before the rogue took over; a crooked twitch of his lips was the only warning a split second before he moved, sitting up and wrapping his bulging arms about he rolled them. She laughed brightly at suddenly finding herself beneath him and all but covered by his broad body. With warm chuckle on his breath and a playful kiss to her neck he began to fuck her, angling just the way he knew would make her see stars. She caught the flash of satisfaction in his eye as her voice pitched from mirth to moan just before her eyes slid shut in ecstasy. She arched herself into him, determined that he get as much out of it as she knew she undoubtedly would, and felt her own small triumph flicker in her chest at his answering breathless groan.  

When they came they came together, repeated experience guiding them around the others bodies, each knew just how to touch, when and where to make the other peak. When they were done and dressed they stood in the doorway of his tiny room to say their farewells.

“You take care out there Ry, don’t go getting yourself killed. Not when you’re so close to finally getting the girl,” she smiled and nudged him with a booted toe.

“Ah, lass,” he sighed through a deep chuckle, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “you be a good girl now, don’t go getting into any mischief yourself.”  

“Not much chance of that,” she replied, a small wistful smile on her lips.

Rylen reached out and drew her into a big bear hug, pressing a fond kiss to her hair, “If he’s half as smart as I know he is he’ll figure it out before too long…and if he’s not, well, you’d only have to be half as sexy to catch a blind man’s eye. You and I both know he isn’t blind,” he grinned, giving her a squeeze.

“Your confidence is flattering Ry,” she laughed softly, “Good luck out there. Lysette won’t know what’s hit her,” she winked and gave her now former lover a final peck on the cheek before wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders and stepping out into the night.


	2. When a door closes....

Even though it was amicable, Amrita felt a certain hollowness as she sat alone back in her room.  Not sad exactly, more a wistful melancholy. She was happy for Rylen, truly, but she had so few people in this new life that losing one was a big deal. She was in the mood to drink, and brood.

About a bottle and a half of cheap sour wine in she decided she was also in the mood to dance. But she wanted _real_ music. It’s what she’d have done back home- what every woman she’d ever know would have done at the end of a relationship. So she rummaged through her chest for the sexiest clothes she owned and began to change.

The low-cut V of the tan leather vest she selected, and lack of an undershirt, displayed her milky cleavage to its fullest. Then, after digging through her chest and finding nothing suitable, she fashioned a quick wrap-around handkerchief skirt by slicing the bottom few inches off her chamber drapes. The billowy crimson fabric settled low on her hips and showed a pleasing expanse of leg on one side, dipping diagonally across her thighs it stopped just above the opposite knee.

Donning her usual black leather knee-high boots to complete the outfit, and letting her long curls loose and wild, she twirled once in front of the broken mirror by her door. Satisfied, she grabbed her phone and made her way to the tavern, finishing the second bottle on the trek across the hold.

Entering the Heralds Rest Amrita made a bee-line for the bar. Being later in the evening Skyholds only tavern wasn’t packed but there were still enough people sitting at the low benches and loitering along the walls to make it interesting. Maryden had already retired for the night she noticed- _good_ \- that will make it easier for her to dance. Grabbing her new bottle Cabot thumped down in front of her, and a foregoing the proffered glass, she made her way to an almost clear table near the back of the room.

Ignoring the raised eyebrow of the Qunari mercenary at her odd attire she dug the phone out of her breast-band and switched it on. Quickly flicking through her playlists she landed on the perfect song to get her groove on, cranked the volume, and hit play.

As the first bars of the Earth music erupted from the handset Amrita chugged a good few gulps of her wine and stepped onto the bench seat, startling the bleary-eyed soldier on the other end, she brushed one or two empty tankards to the side with a sweep of on arm and ascended to the table top. Taking another deep swig of her cheap red vino she let herself began to feel the rhythm and took a deep breath, joining the song with her own sultry voice.

 _Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell_  
_Jimmy Rogers on the Victrola up high_  
_Mama's dancin' with baby on her shoulder_  
_The sun is settin' like molasses in the sky_  
_The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything_  
_Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for_

  _Black velvet and that little boy's smile_  
_Black velvet with that slow southern style_  
_A new religion that'll bring you to your knees_  
_Black velvet if you please_

  _Up in Memphis the music's like a heatwave_  
_White lightning, bound to drive you wild_  
_Mama's baby's in the heart of every school girl_  
_"Love me tender" leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle_  
_The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true_  
_Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for_

  _Black velvet and that little boy's smile_  
_Black velvet with that slow southern style_  
_A new religion that'll bring you to your knees_  
_Black velvet if you please_  
_Black velvet if you please...._

 Her hips swayed side to side causing the fine material of her makeshift skirt to shift and flow about her thighs, her bare midriff undulated fluidly as she twisted and dipped on the dubious stage of the taverns table. Punctuating verses with occasional sips from the dark green bottle clasped in one hand, she let the music move her as though she were in the room alone. Before too long every head was turned her way, all chatter died down and the whole crowd was riveted to the odd woman with her strange music writhing in ways they’d never seen in decent society. _Yes_ , she thought through her drunken fog, _it’s not exactly like back home, but it’ll do,_ and she launched into the next song on her playlist.

 _Is it so hard to satisfy your senses_  
_You found out to love me you have to climb some fences_  
_Scratching and crawling along the floor to touch you_  
_And just when it feels right you say you found someone else to hold you_  
_Does she like I do_  
  
_Tell me does she love you like the way I love you_  
_Does she stimulate you attract and captivate you_  
_Tell me does she miss you existing just to kiss you_  
_Like the way I do_  
_Tell me does she want you infatuate and haunt you_  
_Does she know just how to shock and electrify and rock you_  
_Does she inject you seduce you and affect you_  
_Like the way I do..._

**

“Commander,” came the urgent call through his tower door. Cullen startled momentarily, then levered himself from his desk with a frustrated grunt; it was late, was it too much to ask for just one evening of peace? Wrenching the door open he scowled down at the scout that had disturbed him with his pounding.

“What,’ he growled in barely restrained irritation.

“Uh, sorry to disturb you so late Commander but, Cabot bade me. That odd woman, the horse trainer that the Herald found- he thinks she might be possessed or something. He thought you’d want to know,” the young man stammered.

Cullen’s glare sharpened; though he knew the rogue was no mage, these days with all the strange goings-on he couldn’t afford to rule anything out.

“Thank you, I’ll be there directly. You may go,” closing the door on the recruit Cullen took a few deep breaths to calm his elevated pulse before making to leave. Deciding there was no time to equip his armour he threw his mantle over his loose cotton shirt to ward against the chill, and lifted his sword from the weapon stand on the way out the door. He hurried down the zigzagging stone stairs to the hold floor and jogged quickly toward the tavern.

As he reached the door he paused at the sounds coming from within; the hollering and clapping seeping through the ill-fitted jamb didn’t sound like a crowd in distress. Frown deepening he shouldered open the door, and almost wished that it was a possession. The sight that greeted him was the last thing he expected- Amrita twisting and swaying atop a table dressed in what could barely be considered clothing. Barefoot she strutted on  pointed toe-tips from one end of the long trestle to the other, long slender legs making the movements both lewd and alluring. She was also quite clearly inebriated.

Her warm rich voice accompanied by her otherworld music was enough to make his breath catch. He’d noticed that she was a striking woman, long mahogany hair, deep brown eyes and milk-pale skin- he was, after all, only a man- but their interactions after her dramatic entrance into the Inquisition had been few and brief, and he’d been far too busy to pay her any mind. Watching her now, her fluid motion and suggestive husk in her throat caused his pulse to race and he was momentarily struck still.

 _Now here you go again_  
_You say you want your freedom_  
_Well, who am I to keep you down?_  
_It's only right that you should_  
_Play the way you feel it_  
_But listen carefully to the sound_  
_Of your loneliness_  
_Like a heartbeat, drives you mad_  
_In the stillness of remembering what you had_  
_And what you lost_  
_And what you had_  
_And what you lost_  
_Oh, thunder only happens when it's raining_  
_Players only love you when they're playing_  
_They say women, they will come and they will go_  
_When the rain washes you clean, you'll know_  
_You'll know...._

Cullen shook himself out of his wide-eyed stupor, he had a purpose and it wouldn’t do to stand around gawking. It wasn’t so much that she was drunk that was the problem, but very few people in Skyhold knew she wasn’t of Thedas. The Herald and his advisors had decided to keep this detail to themselves once she’d convinced them of the truth. Though he’d been suspiciously doubtful of her story in the beginning, over the months she’d been with the Inquisition he’d come to believe that truly, she was not of this world. Until now, she’d contained the more colourful and bizarre aspects of her alien origins from the greater population, but this blatant display of her "Earth" technology and customs – no wonder they’d jumped to demons. Groaning he began to make his way to the back of the room, pushing through the tightly packed bodies surrounding the spectacle of the half-naked woman.

From her elevated vantage Amrita suddenly spotted the man heading towards her, a deep scowl creasing his brow, and her face lit up with a wide smile.

“Commander! Dance with me?” She crowed breaking off her song, her words barely slurring. “I have the perfect song….” She pressed a few quick fingers to the little black device in her hand and began singing.

 _I was sitting all alone, watching people getting off, with each other_  
_They were dancing 'cross the floor, turning movement back and forth, they were lovers_  
_One more lonely night for me, I looked up what did I see_

 _Sexy eyes, moving 'cross the floor, couldn't want for more, sexy eyes_  
_Sexy eyes, getting down with you, I wanna move with you, sexy eyes_

 _I got up and took your hand and we both began to dance to the music_  
_Ooh your magic cast a spell, it didn't take long 'til we fell and we knew it_  
_No more lonely nights for me, this is how its gonna be_

 _Sexy eyes, moving 'cross the floor, couldn't want for more, sexy eyes_  
_Sexy eyes, getting down with you, I wanna move with you, sexy eyes_...

Standing now at the edge of the table Cullen’s mouth went dry as he watched her roll her dainty bare shoulders in time with the measured beat. Her hips seemed to move independently of her firm and flat stomach as she swaggered and circled up on her stage. She wore no shirt under the constricting leather vest, displaying her assets in all their ample glory.

Still gripping a nearly empty wine bottle in one hand her long graceful arms beckoned enticingly in smooth flowing waves as she sang. When he caught a flash of her barely-there lacy smallthings through the high slit of her skirt, he nearly dropped to his knees with the realisation that the flimsy strip of cloth was only tied on with a simple knot over one hip.

Gritting his teeth Cullen shoved through the front row of spectators and stepped up onto the bench, handing his sword off to Cabot and bidding him have a runner return it to his tower, he reached to grab the woman by the waist and unceremoniously flung her over one broad shoulder. Ignoring the indignant squeal and protesting hands on his back he effortlessly carried his burden back out into the cool night air to a chorus of disappointed spectators.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, kept changing my mind about the music LOL


	3. ... a window opens.

It wasn’t until he’d hauled the struggling woman outside and the pub door had slammed shut behind them that Cullen realised he didn’t know where her quarters were. Making a quick decision he headed for the steps that lead back up to the battlements and his tower. Getting her out of public as quickly as possible was his primary motivation, not shortly after was the matter of her safety- clearly she was not in a state to consider the precarious position she’d put herself in. Huffing in frustration he quickly mounted the stairs to the top of the Keep walls, his passengers’ slight frame offering little resistance to his powerful back and legs.

When he reached the top he registered that her body had gone limp, limbs dangling and swaying bonelessly by his side. He stopped and tried to peer over his shoulder to see if she was still conscious, his relief at her low mumbling was short lived as the meaning of her words sunk in.

“You’d better put me down, unless you want to wear a bottle or three of that nasty swill that passes for wine around here…”

Hastily bending his knees Cullen set the woman on her feet and made sure she was steady before backing up a step and removing his hands from her body. She stood a moment, one pale hand pressed to a temple as she waited for the blood to rush back down from her head. 

He watched her attempt to gather herself, the crisp mountain air seeming to help sober her. When she bent to press her forehead to the cold stone of the rampart wall, sucking in deep steadying breaths, he noticed the she’d begun to shiver. Sliding his mantle from his shoulders he draped the heavy cloth still warm from his own body across hers and stood back. Leaning on an elbow atop a crenulation, he cocked one foot toe-down over the other and settled in to wait it out.

The only sounds in the night silence were the perpetual susurrus of the Frostback wind that caressed and sometimes raged about the Keeps’ high protective walls, and her own gulping breaths. Determined not to toss her cookies in front of the Commander, Amrita, through sheer force of will, calmed her roiling stomach.

When eventually she was relatively sure it was safe to open her eyes she surreptitiously peeked through the curtain of her hair at the imposing blonde Commander, and nearly choked on her own tongue. Leaning there bathed in moonlight in only his fitted dark leather trousers and a loose linen shirt open at the neck, his gilded curls gently ruffled in the lazy breeze as he surveyed the silver-tipped peaks of the surrounding ranges- he was easily the most beautiful fucking thing she’d ever laid eyes on.

His head snapped up at the inelegant sound of her coughing, topaz eyes intent with concern, “Are you alright, Lady Amrita?”

“Uh, yes! I mean, yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she stammered, wrestling her hair out of her face where it had tangled while she propped herself up on the wall, “and it’s just Amrita, or Rita, or Ami even, whichever you prefer, is fine….” she petered off as she noted the quizzical lift of his eyebrow. Groaning internally she let her head fall forwards to hide her embarrassment.

“So, would you mind explaining to me what that was all about, Rita?” he asked after a brief pause.

 “Not exactly, I mean, I don’t really know how… I’m not sure it would translate,” she tried to deflect, but he was clearly having none of it.

 “Try.” he dead-panned.

 “I was… dancing.”

 “Dancing? I’m no dancer, but I’m certain I’ve never seen anything of the kind in any court in Thedas, and most dockside taverns I’d wager.”

 She had the grace to look sheepish at least.

 “It’s… about _feeling_ ,” she tried to explain, “about being moved by the music, feeling your body, feeling _good_ in your own skin…. “ she looked up into his eyes trying earnestly to convey her meaning, and seeing only confusion she sighed, “It’s a feeling of power, it’s sensual and freeing and invigorating to be so connected to yourself and those around you, …. I just needed to _remember_..”

 “Are you homesick, for …Earth?” he asked softly, not understanding but trying to.

 “No, not really. There was nothing for me there, only the music. I’d kill for a piano, or even just a guitar!” she shook her head and gave a light snort. Raising her eyes to meet his she said more softly, “I needed to remember what it is to be me, as a woman.”

 “Surely that’s not difficult to remember for a woman such as yourself, .. ..” he broke off, one hand lifting to rub the back of his neck, eyes dropping bashfully as he realised what he’d just said.

 Amrita felt her cheeks warm as she watched him through her lashes, uncomfortably looking anywhere but at her.

 “Ah, that is,” he cleared his throat gruffly, “did something happen to make you feel you weren’t… yourself?”

 “Nothing really, I was… seeing someone, but we decided to end it. It’s fine, it was time, he’s leaving soon anyway but… I just, have so few friends in this world any loss is hard,” she met his gaze and offered a small smile, clutching the warn but warm cloak tighter around her.

“I see… well I’m sure, in time, you’ll make new friends. You’ve settled in remarkably since you joined us, the Inquisition that is… it’s only been a few months. You’re doing exceptional work with the horses, Master Dennett speaks highly of your skill. I’m certain you’ll find your place here soon enough,” he gave her an encouraging smile. They fell again into silence, both looking out of the darkened sentinels of the Frostbacks, their snowy mantles alight under the clear full moon.

 “For what it’s worth, you're always welcome at my door, should you have need of ... a friend…” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. Shaking out of his drifting thoughts he turned to look down at her again, remembering why they were there.

 He pulled his features into a stern frown, becoming the Commander once again, “I understand that you’ve experienced a lot of change recently, it can’t be easy to have to make your way in an unfamiliar world, and I’m not unsympathetic. But we must keep your origins secret to avoid panic and distrust- not only for the reputation of the Inquisition but for your own safety.”

 “Yes, Commander, I’m sorry. I’ll… behave,” she gave a lopsided smile.

 “Yes well, luckily at this hour everyone in that room but Cabot was well beyond drunk, not that I condone the Inquisitions soldiers to inebriate themselves, but in this case it works to our benefit. I’m sure between Varric and Bull we can spin this to seem like you had a reaction to a bad bottle of wine, or something. And Cabot is a discrete sort, a quiet word and a few coins should keep his lips sealed,” he smiled in amusement, “now, where are you quartered, I should like to see you safely there and seek my own rest, it’s quite late My La… Rita.”

 “I have a small closet above the stables, between Dennett and Warden Blackwall it may as well be filled with druffalo than horses though!” she snorted.

Cullen frowned a little at that- a young woman bunked alone with only two older men for company, but he said nothing. 

 They walked in comfortable silence the short distance between his tower office and the door that linked the top floor of the stables to the ramparts upon the Keep walls.

Amrita stopped in front of the door and pulled his cloak from her shoulders. Holding it out to him she smiled, "thank you for the loan of your coat Commander Rutherford," she said shyly before slipping into the dark loft.

 “You’re very welcome, Rita. And it’s Cullen, just… Cullen,” he smiled and bent at the waist in a shallow bow before turning to make his way back to his tower.

 Closing the door Amrita leaned against the rough wood. Having sobered a little in the icy night air she reflected on her evening- getting hammered and making a spectacle of herself at the Heralds Rest may simultaneously have been the dumbest, and the best thing she’d done since arriving in Thedas.


	4. Linger

Each night for the last week, since he had berated her for her indiscretion at the Heralds Rest, Cullen found himself laying in his bed late into the night listening to Amrita singing on the battlements. He _should_ feel guilty, certain she was unaware of the hole in his roof that allowed him to overhear, but somehow he just couldn’t. She always waited until the Keep was deep in its blankets before stepping out onto the deserted parapet, and she only allowed herself one song each evening. No longer using the little music box it was just her pure, mournful voice and the night. Understanding this was her small way of preserving a connection, however tenuous, to her world, while still keeping her promise to him to “behave”, Cullen didn’t have the heart to put a stop to it. If he was honest he’d begun to find himself staying up later than he should just so he could hear it, having quickly become a favourite part of his day.

Her wistful voice drifted down over him like a soft fog as he lay there, eyes closed to better immerse himself. Like every night before, her words stirred something in him that he couldn’t name, but he found he was easier able to drift off to sleep having heard them.

 _In the chilly hours and minutes_  
Of uncertainty  
I want to be  
In the warm hold of your loving mind

 _To feel you all around me_  
And to take your hand  
Along the sand  
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind

 _When sundown pales the sky_  
I want to hide a while  
Behind your smile  
And everywhere I'd look, your eyes I'd find

 _For me to love you now_  
Would be the sweetest thing  
T'would make me sing  
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind

 _When rain has hung the leaves with tears_  
I want you near to kill my fears  
To help me to leave all my blues behind

 _For standin' in your heart_  
Is where I want to be  
And long to be  
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind

_Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind_

       

As the final notes faded Cullen found himself oddly wanting to comfort her. He wanted to hold her, do something to make her music happier somehow. It’s not that her songs were sad exactly, but there was a definite air of longing, or perhaps loneliness, in the lyrics and melodies she preferred during her midnight performance.

A stark difference from the more lively selection he’d witnessed that first night, not to say that he hadn’t enjoyed those either but they were clearly intended to illicit a very different response. The memory of his own reaction to the taunting teasing display and suggestive lyrics made him blush, a creeping warmth across his cheeks that only deepened when he also recalled that much to his shame he’d used those memories to facilitate some of his baser needs alone in his room.

For that alone he felt he needed to do something nice for her, try to cheer her up. I couldn’t be easy finding yourself on a whole other world from your own, away from everything familiar and comforting. He recalled she’d wished for some things that sounded like they may have been musical instruments of some kind, and resolved to find out more about them in the morning. Pulling his woollen covers up to keep the chill night air off his skin, Cullen slipped into the fade as he had every other night for the past week- quickly and peacefully.

*

Amrita had very little skill, she felt, in the art of attraction. But what she did have she was prepared to use. Seeing the Commanders reaction to her singing in the tavern that night she decided that rather than try to catch his eye as Rylen had suggested, she’d instead try to catch his ear. Using her love for music as a lure, all she needed was to pique his curiosity.

Their interactions since joining the Inquisition had been short, formal, and forgettable. What she needed was to be memorable. At least enough so that on the rare occasions when they did cross paths, she might begin to steer their conversations to something more casual than the historically brisk encounters where she received her orders and then was promptly dismissed. Casual conversation provided opportunities to expand their acquaintance, which in turn would eventually lead to the possibility of casual socialising. Alright, so it wasn’t a brilliant plan, but it was a place to start.

She had to stand out among the throngs of giddy nobles and serving women and soldiers and every other living breathing woman in Skyhold, and not a small number of men! There was no denying the competition- he was handsome, smart, powerful, and highly desirable. And endearingly, he seemed to be completely unaware of the effect he had on people, that or he simply had no interest in it. He was all those things and more, but that's not what drew her to him.

She’d heard a lot of the stories of course about his past and the circumstances prior to his acquisition to the Inquisition. If even half of them were true more than anything she just wanted to comfort him, offer support, be there for him. He was very much a loner and she wondered if that were because he was hiding himself away, or simply because he didn’t know who among the masses he could really confide in. He moved through the place as though he was only half there, like part of him existed on another plane or was so tightly wrapped up and kept separate; like he was always on his guard, never able to relax among other people. It must be such a hollow way to live; surrounded all the time, demands on his every waking moment, but never really connected, never understood. She wanted to be someone he could trust, to help ease his loneliness, maybe even someone he could love. She just knew she wanted to be closer to him.   

And so, she’d begun to sing. When only a single flicker of candlelight glowed in his high tower window, when all the rest of the Keep had gone to sleep, she laid her heart bare and hoped that somehow he would hear her and remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this thing is taking on a life of its own... *shrug* We'll see where it takes us I suppose ;)


	5. Turning Point

His feet began to move before he’d even had a thought to do so. Cullen crossed his room in the top of his tower and descended the stairs to his office. He didn’t hurry. He didn’t think. But when she’d stepped out onto the parapet he just couldn’t stand in the dark and watch her again from the window- he needed to be nearer, he wanted to be close for whatever comfort he could draw from her.

By the time Amrit reached her usual spot about half way between her quarters and his, Cullen was shrouded in the deep shadow of his recessed tower door. Arms crossed and shoulder leaning on the cold stone archway he stood still as the stone.

As was her way Amrita leaned on her palms and stretched as far out over the wall as she could and still keep her feet flat on the pavers. Eyes closed she lifted her face into the night, with her pale skin illuminated by the brilliant moonlight he could see every nuance of her features in bright contrast. Her chest lifted and settled as she drew deep slow breaths of the chill mountain air into her lungs, and he watched the lines of worry and stress fall away with each exhale.

The tight set of her shoulders began to loosen as her breathing slowed, the hard edges and rigid control she ware like a costumer in the daylight melted and Cullen was certain no-one was meant to see her when the mask came off.

Cullen knew the ritual, he’d seen from his chamber window more nights than he cared to count, watching her shed her façade and draw peace into herself, watching her soften soothed him. He knew when she stood straight but relaxed and gently rested her hands by her sides that she was ready and he found himself holding his breath as she inhaled and parted her lips:

 _Pull back the shield between us,_  
_And I'll kiss you,_  
_Drop your defenses and come,_  
_Into my arms._  
_I'm all for believing,_  
_I'm all for believing_

_I'm all for believing if you can reveal the true colours within._

_I know you blanket your mind_  
_So much that I am blind,_  
_But I, I see you've painted your soul_  
_Into your guard,_  
_I'm all for believing,_  
_I'm all for believing_

 _I need to know just how you feel,_  
_To comfort you;_  
_I need to find the key let me in,_  
_Into your heart,_  
_To find your soul._

 _Pull back the shield between us,_  
_And I'll kiss you,_  
_Drop your defenses and come,_  
_Into my arms._

 _I'm all for believing, if you can reveal, the true colours within,_  
_And say you will be there for me to hold,_  
_When the faith grows old and life turns cold,_

 _When the faith grows old, and life turns cold._  
_So if you're cold I will stay, maybe fate will guide the way._  
_I believe in what I see and baby we were meant to be,_  
_Just believe. Just believe. Just believe._  
_Trust in me._

                                                     

A knot had hardened under his sternum and his pulse throbbed in his chest as the last echo of her music floated out over the parapet and into the night. Cullen’s thoughts raced around his head like a swam of bees- so many thoughts but too fast to single out and examine any one of them. Out of the white noise that clouded his mind two thoughts solidified almost at once; who was she singing to, or for, or about? – and- he wanted it to be him.  

After a brief moment where this errant idea had struck him dumb, he shook his head and felt his lips curl into a familiar sneer of self mocking, _of course it’s not about you, you fool! She barely knows you, just like everyone else in this castle. You won’t let them know you, you won’t let **her**. _

Since that night at the tavern they'd crossed paths several times, but their interactions, while polite, were perfunctory at best. Each time Amrita had greeted him warmly, to which he often found himself struggling to find words to reciprocate, the silence would stretch and before he could pull even the most basic acceptable response her eyes would drop shyly and she'd already be moving on.

It was vexing at the least and downright mortifying at worst. What she must think of him; rude, arrogant, aloof? Maybe she thought he didn't even remember her. Cullen had always prided himself on his manners, that they failed him so completely every time they met was confounding. What was it about her that unbalanced him so? More than once when crossing the walkways and squares of Skyhold he found himself looking out for her, preparing a proper greeting in his mind just in case they ran into each other. In time he even began to find more and more excuses to leave his tower and cross the lawns, or visit the stables. It baffled him that she so often stole into his thoughts, that he felt compelled to try and manufacture seemingly incidental meetings with her. 

 _You’re an embarrassment Rutherford, and a creep!_ Suddenly he felt uncomfortable having spied on her, not just tonight but all the others. She deserved better than some lecher turning her private sorrows and attempts to self-sooth into fodder for his own selfish purposes. And the rest of it, didn't that make him some kind of stalker? Deplorable!

Barely choking back a disgusted scoff Cullen turned his head, trying to bury his flaming shame deeper into the dark doorway. He couldn’t leave until she did or she’d know, and suddenly her good opinion of him was worth something more than it had before, but when he heard no retreating footsteps he looked up keeping his movements slow and small so as not to give himself away- she was facing his tower now, eyes raised toward his window. He couldn’t hear the whisper of words as she spoke but he recognised the familiar movement of her lips as they shaped one word- _Cullen._


	6. HerStory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backstory heavy, this little tale has taking on a life of its own, I'm just along for the ride. Much more detailed than early chapters so I may need to do a rewrite in the future, or not, we'll just have to see ;)

Dust plumed under the churning hooves of the big bay stallion as it circled her in the makeshift training ring. Amrita had been working with the Inquisitions horses almost since she’d been with them. It was obvious to the Inquisitor and her companions that she had a way with equines on the journey back to Skyhold after they’d first found her. If that weren’t enough to convince the Inquisitor she could be useful, the way she’d handled herself when the group was set upon by bandits certainly did. Her skills in the saddle with a bow impressed them, although somewhat unorthodox in Thedas- firing arrows from a moving horse- they saw value in it.

Music was her soul but horses were a passion. Ever since she was a little girl Amrita would light up around them. She’d use all her pocket money at the local show on the pony rides, she’d be late to school because on the walk there she passed a paddock and always had to stop and feed the soft-eyed nags blades of grass she plucked from the ground and held outstretched over their fence.

When she got her first after school job and began to make her own money Amrita would save until she had enough for a lesson at the riding school just out of town. She’d busk with her guitar on weekends, recycle all the plastic and glass bottles she could find, anything to scrape up enough for another visit. Her family wasn’t in a position to facilitate her hobbies, they were low-income, surviving on welfare, and she knew her parents struggled to pay basic bills and keep them all clothed and fed. Whatever was spare they spent on cigarettes and alcohol for themselves, content to waste their lives on the couch, getting by on the bare minimum so they could afford to drink themselves stupid most days.

Everyone had their weaknesses, being poor was hard and stressful, Amrita was resigned to the fact that they chose to cope with their lot in life through vice. She, however, was not.

The school covered her music education, and her music teacher had given her an old acoustic guitar to have as her own. It was the only thing of value she had that hadn’t been hocked, lying and telling her parents it belonged to the teacher and was only on loan. It was enough to keep them from taking it away. Dedicating almost every spare moment to practicing her music it was her way of escaping the oppressive depression of her life at home.

During lunch breaks sometimes her teacher would spend time helping her with her piano playing, since the only piano she had access to practice on was the old cherrywood upright in the music room. It wasn’t every day, but she was grateful when he could spare the time. Later on into her senior years she was allowed to use the room on her own during lunchbreak and after school as long as no-one had tutoring or paid lessons.

Between her low-paying job at a fast food restaurant, music practice and studies, Amrita would every now and again get to go to the stables for an hour and ride a horse. It was looking forward to that hour, working toward that goal that kept her going during those years- bright spots on the dull grey tapestry of her day to day life.

Eventually she graduated; university was out of the question so she got a job in a bank and soon after moved out of home. Her unit was tiny to start with but it was quiet and clean and didn’t smell like stale smoke and beer and despair. She afforded a modest lifestyle, things were tight but she managed.

As the years went by she worked hard and got promotions, buy the time she was 26 she had a nice rental on the edge of town, a neat little older model car, and a second hand piano of her own that she’d gotten finance for. And every week she took riding lessons at the stables on her weekend.

There was a local mounted archery club that met twice a month, and while Amrita couldn’t afford a horse or bow of her own the friends she’d made there were happy for her to ride their horses and use the club equipment. She was happy, she’d built something from nothing and while it may not have seemed much of an existence to anyone else it was something she could be proud about for herself.

So, that’s what she’d been doing when it all fell apart. She’d arrived at the stables and saddled up a stoic little mare that she’d ridden a hundred times before, grabbed her bow from the club equipment locker, and taken them out to the forest to use the mounted archery course. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, sunny, clear, a hint of a breeze. Her bow was strung and her quiver strapped to her thigh full of brightly fletched arrows, her friends mare quietly ambled along on the buckle up the warn path through the trees as Amrita just soaked in the peace and sunshine.

There was no warning, as sudden blinding green flash caused the usually passive mare to spook violently to the left, clutching her bow in reflex Amrita fell off-side as she was unseated. She was enveloped in the sickly green light, and then nothing.

She’d awoken in a tent on a stretcher, her gear laid on the ground beside the narrow cot along with her jeans and boots, and no idea of how she’d gotten there or even where she’d come from. Her memory had come back later but that’s how she found herself in the company of the Inquisitor and her crew.

Amrita was put to work in the stables under the supervision of Master Dennet in time he’d come to appreciate that while her methods were unusual the animals seemed to like her, and he couldn’t deny her results. When she’d petitioned him to start a few horses from scratch, he’d begrudgingly assigned 3 young well-bred colts of her own to train.

A handful of idle soldiers had been roped into clearing a 50 foot circle and constructing a barrier around it for training. Between exercising the herd of Inquisition mounts and keeping them in condition, cleaned, and fed, Amrita worked with her charges. For the first few weeks Dennet had scoffed and scowled over the railing as he looked on.

“How you gonna break a horse to a rider from the ground, you afraid of a little bucking lass?” he heckled, but not with cruelty. He was just gruff, it was his way. Amrita shrugged it off.  

“Let me put it to you this way Master Dennet- what if a horse didn’t need to be “broken” to be able to be ridden? What if a horse could do everything you need and want without beating it into submission? What if I told you I could get this horse,” she indicated her young gelding at the end of her rope, “to accept a saddle, accept a rider, and do his job willingly, without risking trauma or injury to either of us from bucking and throwing himself around out of fear? What if I could teach this horse to be more than just a tool, to become an extension of his rider with intuition and bravery, to be a partner? And that it wouldn’t take any longer or cost any more to do it my way? Wouldn’t you like to see that Master Dennet?”

He’d just stared, his steady grey eyes considered her as though she were half crazy, but she could tell he was also curious, until he’d harrumphed and sauntered off to attend his own duties. She’d smirked to herself and continued her work.

A little over two months in all three of her boys were calm and confident, wherever she was they tracked her with their complete focus, they were undeniably connected to her in hand or under saddle, with barely a single buck throughout the whole process.

Deliberately selected for their three different temperaments; one was naturally calm and curious and consistent, one a bit flighty, but so willing to please, and the third, well…. he was a bit of an ass. Obstinate, grumpy, very aware of his size being the biggest of the bunch, he liked to resist first, make her earn every inch she gained with him. He was her most challenging but she was certain winning him over would also be the most rewarding.

Amrita thrived in her work; she loved the horses and the people around her, the simpler life she'd made for herself since landing on Thedas - in truth she'd never been happier and it made her smile to herself as she continued her work on the colt.


	7. A plan of his own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen might have a plan of his own to get closer to the singing Earth woman.

Making his way across the overpass to see Leliana, Cullen cast a cursory glance around as he was in the habit of doing by now, and got lucky. Amrita was in the round pen with a horse in the stable area, doing some exercises he’d never seen before. Instead of heading up he diverted and made his way down to the hold floor. Walking up to the arena he angled his way to come from behind so as not to distract her, and leaned both elbows on the top rail while propping one foot on the bottom.    

“He’s a lovely type, clean mover.”

“Commander, you startled me,” Amrita spun toward him and his chest warmed as a smile broke across her face when their eyes met, “what can I do for you?”

“I was just doing inspections, checking in around the hold. I’ve seen you working the horses but this one you handle differently, Master Dennet said you’re training him yourself?” he asked, he was prepared this time.

“Yes, I’ve been given three young horses to start my own way. _This_ one,” she tipped her chin at the animal that was standing as far away from Cullen as possible with his ears back, “is particularly difficult, stubborn, but he’ll get there. He’ll make a great war horse,” she smiled fondly at the dark colt, a pretty flush pinking her cheeks. 

“He seems, angry?” he lifted a sceptical brow. Amrita laughed, full and vibrant, eyes sparkling. Cullen smiled as he watched her, his gut fluttered at the sound, “have you tried singing to him?” he suggested teasingly, one corner of his mouth twitching against a grin.

She hummed, a wide smile still on her lips, “This one can’t be bought, he has to be convinced that I’m a good leader, that I’m be better at keeping him alive than he is. He’s too shrewd for tricks and bribes.”

“I’ve never really thought about horses as individuals before, but I should be interested to see how they perform as they mature.”

“Especially this one,” she agreed, leaning against the rail beside him, a bare hand span away.

He smiled down into her upturned face, “Especially this one.”

They stood in comfortable silence, eyes locked. The moments slipped away between them, Cullen couldn’t have said how long. A cloud passed over the sun, the sudden change of light snapping him back into time. Mentally shaking himself Cullen realised they’d been standing just staring. In public. He raised a hand to rub at the nape of his neck.

“So, ah, I heard that you are an accomplished archer?” he groped for a topic to give him a reason to keep speaking with her.

“I wouldn’t say accomplished, but I’ve been doing it for a few years, I’m alright, not Olympic level or anything…’ she trailed off nervously, it made his scar lift higher.

“I’d say anyone who can take down a hare from the back of a horse at a canter is more than just “alright.” 

“To be fair, the hare was not moving.”       

Cullen let out a full bellied laugh, it felt _good_! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that. When he looked back down he noticed Amrita was blushing but her eyes radiated … _something_ , something that made his mouth go dry, something he didn’t dare to hope for.

“I was thinking,” he cleared his throat and straightened, and tried again, “I was hoping actually to see if you wouldn’t mind perhaps teaching that skill to a few of my troops? Having a squad of mounted archers could be a very useful resource for the Inquisition.” He asked.

‘I, well, yeah. Yes, I mean. I’d love to, do that, for you, for the Inquisition… ah” she stumbled over her words, her stammering was endearing. Cullen smiled and watched the pale skin of her throat flush scarlet. Utterly adorable.

“Well, that’s good then. When you’re ready report to me, to my office, I suppose, and we can begin plans.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” she demurred, biting her lower lip and looking up at him through her lashes, “Is tomorrow morning okay, after breakfast?”

“Yes, that would be suitable. I’ll see you then, Rita,” he clasped his hands behind his back and bent at the waist in a shallow bow before turning and sauntering off back towards the keep.

“See you then. Cullen.” She called behind him. He grinned to himself, now he would have a perfectly valid reason to see her more often- all in all it was a successful operation, he thought.


	8. A ball!

Amrita arrived for her weekly meeting with the Commander to report on the progress of the mounted archery training half a bell early, and she brought lunch. It was a standing appointment, even though they both knew she could just as easily write reports, like every other of his subordinates, but neither of them felt the need to bring that up. So she visited, for a _meeting_ , at the midday bell every week. Never mind that he swung by the stables every other day, or that she chose to pick herbs for the horses in the garden only when he was playing chess with Master Pavus.

There was a constant low flutter in her chest that flared every time she saw him, and thundered when he smiled.- which was often. Like now, when she stepped through the open door into his office and he looked up from the gaggle of women flittering about him with bolts of cloth and measuring tapes, his deep scowl melted away to a rueful smile.

“Commander?” she queried, stepping up to place their meal on a clear corner of his large desk.

“Amrita,” he greeted warmly, “ah, I’ll be right with you. I think,” he looked around at the fussing horde with consternation.

She chuckled, “It’s alright, I can wait. What’s this all for?” she queried, curious.

“Ah, yes. I was about to tell you- the Inquisitor needs to go to Halamshiral and she’s requested the advisors accompany her.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, when I arrived you looked like you were trying to frown yourself to death,” she grinned crookedly, easily slipping into the comfortable camaraderie they’d developed over the months.

Cullen made an indelicate sound, lifting his arms as the seamstress pulled and prodded taking his measurements, “I’m to attend a ball… a _ball_ ,” he huffed, then straightened as a busy tailor pinched him to stay still, “I am a soldier,” he complained.

Amrita threw her head back and laughed. His petulance morphed into a bashful half smile, his cheeks pinking slightly only made her laugh harder until his scar began to twitch and he started chuckling too.

Sighing he shook his head, “A ball, what am I going to do at a ball?”

“An _Olresian_ ball!”

“Please, don’t remind me,” he rolled his eyes.

“The music, the dresses, the dancing…”

“I do not dance,” he affirmed.

“Oh shush, I bet you’re a great dancer”

“Wha..uh.. why, why do you say that?” he looked suddenly awkward, standing a head above them all, arms out stiffly to his sides.      

“Because I’ve seen you fight Commander, you’re methodical, rhythmic, graceful even,” she shrugged, popping a grape in her mouth, “You’ll be _fine,_ Cullen, you might even have fun,” she teased.

“I greatly doubt that, and I'll thank you to keep such observations to yourself- I can't rightly have my army thinking I'm _graceful;_ it's not very _Commander-ly,_ ” he replied, shaking out his arms and legs and straightening his shirt now the cluster of busy woman had released him from their clutches. As they gathered their assortment of cloth and tools and with a final confirmation from the head seamstress that the tailor would be by for final fitting the next afternoon, they were suddenly left alone.

Giving himself a final inspection he made his way around the desk, placing a companionable hand briefly on her shoulder as he moved to take his seat, “Apologies for keeping you waiting, I was descended upon  without warning,” he smiled, taking an apple from the basket on his desk.

“It’s fine, really, I kinda liked seeing you at their mercy. Makes you seem more….human,” Amrita began laying out their meal, reaching into the basket and setting items on the rough clay plates.

“So says the woman who appeared from another world, thank you,” he chuckled as he took the proffered plate of food she prepared.  

“Oh, ha-ha, _Commander._ Just eat your lunch.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment while they ate, just enjoying each other’s company.

“So, Halamshiral,” she began, trying to sound casual, “how long will you, all, will you _all_ be gone?” Amrita kept her eyes on her food, or the bookcase, or anywhere else to avoid making contact with him- missing the momentary flicker of softness there.

“If all goes as planned I expect we’ll be away for eight days, perhaps nine. The Inquisitor would be in a uniquely advantageous position to cement relations with the nobles, secure allies, funds for the Inquisition.” He answered, following her lead and keeping his tone light.

“A week, a week and a little bit, that’s not so bad. That’s not that long….”

“It’s long enough,” he says softly. Rita smiles shyly.

“When do you leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

**

They continue their meal, both lost in thought, until the plates are empty and the basket repacked. Cullen poured two cups of sweetened wine and handed one to Amrita.

“How is your squad coming along, Rita?” he asked, remembering that this was meant to be an official debrief.

“Good, _great_ actually. I’m surprised, I thought the archers would find learning to shoot from a horse easier than the scouts learning to fire a bow, but interestingly it’s been the other way around,”

Cullen smiled as she became more animated, clearly enjoying talking about her recruits and training program, “ and my horses are performing _so_ well, even Dennet said so! Well, sort of, as much as Master Dennet compliments anything… he sort of grunted, but in a positive way! Anyway he has committed another dozen horses to my program so I guess that’s something. One for each of them.  I’ve paired each rider to an individual horse so they can build a partnership together, learn together, it’s…… Cullen, it’s _exhilarating_!”

Watching her eyes sparkle as she spoke, the way she gestured with her hands- he’d never seen her so impassioned except when she sang, but this was different; where she drew a mantle of peace and serenity about her when she sang, in this she seemed to become infused with light and life and energy. It made his heart jump and race, his arms ache to hold her, and his lips beg to taste her- as if his body craved some of that light for itself.     

 He contented himself to sip his wine and absorb whatever warmth her radiance would allow from across the desk between them.


	9. Berries!

On the morning of their departure, Cullen stood in the stable area overseeing the final preparations for the Inquisitors retinue that would be accompanying her to Halamshiral. The rest of the party was, _finally,_ mounted and milling by the gate, only awaiting the Inquisitor herself. Horsemaster Dennet had insisted on personally tacking up her mount, and Cullen stepped aside as he lead the pale mare out and made his way toward the waiting crowd. When Cullen went to find his assigned horse now that everyone else was sorted, it wasn’t in its stall. He ground his teeth, chaffing at the delay, but his irritation quickly evaporates when Rita appears in the barn doorway leading his massive piebald gelding- inventively named Patch- all tacked up and ready to go.

She approached him with a nervous smile, “I figured you’d be busy with organising  everything.....” she began, by way of explanation, “and I know how you hate to be late so….I’ve checked his feet, his gear is cleaned, oiled, and fitted, he’s fit and sound and warmed up… ah, here,” she thrust the reins into his hand and took a quick step back, eyes fixed on her boots.

Cullen felt his chest bloom with warmth and his lips curl up in a half smile.

“Rita…”

“Also, Patch’s favourite snack is toast with jam, and if he fidgets rub his ears, it quiets him right down…” she’s talking fast, and still avoiding his gaze.

Cullen’s grin grew a little more, he tried again to get her attention, “Amrita…”

“He’s the only horse big enough to carry you so far in full armour, except for Mighty that is but he isn’t ready and….”

He was chuckling now, he reached out and cupped her jaw in one large leather-clad hand and gently tipped her face up until he made eye contact, “Ami,” he said softly, immediately silencing her. He caressed her cheek with his thumb in small elliptical movements, watching her eyelashes flutter at his touch.

“Cu-ah-Cullen,” she swallowed hard, the waterfall of words suddenly dammed up behind her tongue.

“Ami, it’s only nine days.”

“But I'll … I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll return before you even have a chance,” he soothed.

“Liar,” she pouted, “I already miss you, and you haven’t even left yet.”

She was a sulking, mumbling, blushing mess- and he was quickly coming to realise that he was absolutely besotted. Before he could talk himself out of it Cullen ducked his head to press a tender kiss to her unoccupied cheek, letting his lips linger a moment longer than propriety allowed. Breathing in a lungful of her vanilla scented hair he stood, he took in her stunned expression- eyes wide, and full lips forming a perfect round ‘oh’. He felt his own grin return in full force. With a final swipe of his thumb along her rounded cheekbone he let his hand drop and stepped back to stand by his mount. Putting one booted foot into the stirrup he swung himself up into the saddle and gathered the reins in one gloved fist.

“I will see you again very soon, Ami,” he murmured, and nudged the great-horse into an easy lope to join the Inquisitor at the head of the caravan as they passed under the portcullis, and out of Skyhold. Casting a final glance over his shoulder, the image of her with one pale hand raised, fingertips pressed to her prettily flushed cheek, burned into his memory- she had yet to move a step.   

 **

The time that the Inquisitor and her inner circle had been away in Halamshiral felt to Amrita more like weeks than mere days. She caught herself dozens of times a day thinking about going by Cullen’s tower to see him, until she remembered he was in Orlais and her heart would drop. And then she’d remember that he’d kissed her, and it would start to race; she’d reach up and touch her face where his lips had been, hot and soft and heavenly on her skin and she’d smile, blushing at the memory. Half an hour later she’d be thinking about him again and on it went, a vicious cycle of desire, longing, and giddy hope. It was, frankly, sickening- according to a certain elf.

Being an archer, there had been little chance that Amrita would avoid coming to the attention of the brash and unpolished elf- Sera, or her dwarven counterpart-  Master Varric. Both had lent their expertise from time to time in her training of the mounted squad she’d been entrusted with.

Varric was urbane, witty, and welcoming- though she wasn’t too sure about the nickname he’d bestowed upon on her- “Songbird”. She knew about his penchant for nicknames and had been hoping for something more, warrior-sounding; like Valkyrie, or Amazon- not that he’d even know what they were… but Verric gave his pet-names as he wished, so Songbird she was stuck with. It wasn’t inaccurate anyway, so there was that.

Sera was a whole other monster all together. Instantly taking a like to Amrita, or rather, to her unusual bow and colourful carbon arrows, she'd frequently  been caught “borrowing” them for reasons she kept to herself. If Amrita left her gear unattended for more than a minute she’d turn back to find them absconded. Not the she really minded most of the time, but it was inconvenient when they disappeared right in the middle of drills, or as she was about to mount up to go out hunting and turned to find them missing in the moment it took to check her girth.

The reason for the thefts became apparent when one day Amrita went to collect her bow for the hundredth time and found the rambunctious elf sitting between two piles of arrows; on one side was a stack of her own plain wooden arrows with grey pigeon-feather fletching, and on the other a pile of those same arrows, but now with “paint.”

“I only wanted pretty arrows, like rainbows innit, but how did you make the colours so, sooo, _shiney?_ ” she whined, her tongue sticking out one side of her mouth, brow furrowed in consternation as she mashed a palm-full of berries into paste and proceeded to wipe the lumpy muck into her fletching. All that resulted in was causing  them to clump and stick out at odd angles, rendering them all but unusable.

Momentarily stunned, she’d blurted out a common Earth quip, “Ah.. magic.” To which the small woman made an indelicate sound and stuck out her tongue, before turning her attention to licking the fruity mess from her fingers.

Currently Sera was lying across the back of  the battle-nug Rita was trying to groom and regaling her with tales of her adventures as a Red Jenny. She appreciated the elf’s attempts to distract her from thinking about how much she missed the Commander- the success of which was debatable. But the Inquisitor and her troop had been gone a week- seven whole days- and that meant he’d be returning as early as the day after tomorrow. This thought warmed her heart as she went about her chores; half listening to the chattering woman doing headstands on a nugs butt, and half replaying that sweet, sweet kiss that had been on repeat in her mind since the moment he’d ridden under that archway and out of her sight.

Smiling to herself, Amrita picks up a brush and returns her attention to the giant nug and sings softly,

_Somebody's missing you_   
_Longs to be kissing you_   
_You'd better listen_   
_You mean all the world to me_   
_You're on somebody's mind_   
_Just almost all the time_   
_Bet you already knew_   
_Somebody's missing you_

_The days go slowly by_   
_When I'm away from you_   
_I long to see your smile_   
_And feel the warmth of you_

_I've loved you for so long_   
_But still we feel brand new_   
_At home, inside your arms_   
_Somebody's missing you_

_Somebody's missing you_   
_Longs to be kissing you_   
_You'd better listen_   
_You mean all the world to me_   
_You're on somebody's mind_   
_Just almost all the time_   
_I hope you miss me too_   
_Somebody's missing you_

_Last thought before I sleep_   
_First thought when I awake_   
_You're even in my dreams_   
_And I can hardly wait_

_To hear your voice again_   
_Saying all the things you do_   
_In case you're wondering_   
_Somebody's missing you_

_Somebody's missing you_   
_Longs to be kissing you_   
_You'd better listen_   
_You mean all the world to me_   
_You're on somebody's mind_   
_Just almost all the time_   
_I know you know I do_   
_Somebody's missing you_

_In case you're wondering_   
_Somebody's missing you_   
_Really, really, really, really missing you_

 

 

 


	10. A Grand Gesture

In the bustle of the Inquisitors return to Skyhold it was well after dusk when Cullen finally got a moment to breathe. Between war council debriefs, inspections, and catching up on the paperwork that had accumulated on his desk over the last week and a half, he hadn’t had a chance to do the one thing he really wanted- the thing he’d been thinking about since the imposing silhouette of the Hold had first appeared on the horizon.

He’d looked around the thronging crowds as they spilled into the courtyard, scanning faces hoping to catch a glimpse of her. But before he could make his way to the stables his horse was led away the moment he dismounted, and his attention diverted by a runner summoning him to the war room.

After checking in with his lieutenants, updating schedules, and doing reports, it was well after dark when he sat back to stretch, and roll his neck and shoulders.

A light tap on the door jerked his focus, “Enter," he called out.

Scout Jim poked his head around the door, “Commander Ser, you asked to be informed when the, ah, _thing_ in the great hall was ready?”

Cullen nodded for him to continue, “Lord, erm, what’s-his-face say’s it’s done, _finally._ Who’d have thought it would take so long… or make such a racket! Anyway, what _is_ a ..”

“Thank you, Jim,” Cullen cut him off, though not unkindly. The man did tend to ramble and now that his little project was ready Cullen was impatient to prepare for the final unveiling.

“Yes Ser, very good Ser,” Jim left with a parting smirk.

Cullen snorted with a quirk of his own lips. Shifting the unfinished paperwork on his desk he decided to leave it for the morning and stood to make his way upstairs to his loft.

In his room Cullen stripped out of his travel-stained clothing and freshened up from the basin with cold water and a new bar of soap. Forcing himself not to rush he attended his ablutions with methodical precision; he still had a little time kill.

With a final check in the broken shard of mirror that leaned against the wall atop his dresser, and a time-check via the hole in his roof, he turned and quickly descended back down to his office.

Exiting by the south door Cullen stepped out onto the ramparts and couldn’t help the nervous flutter low in his gut at the familiar figure leaning out over the crenelated wall. Stamping down the niggling self-doubt that lingered ever in the back of his mind, Cullen took a deep steadying breath and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“Cullen!” Rita exclaimed, spinning at the sound and gracing him with a wide smile. Maker that smile, how he’d missed it! She took a few quick steps toward him before catching herself and stopping an arms-length away, “I saw the Inquisitor had returned, I, um, how, how was the trip? I heard the Winter Palace was….really…” her voice trailed off as she met his warm gaze.

“Rita,” he closed the distance between them in one measured stride, bringing her within a bare inch but not touching. Her pale skin glowed in the crisp moonlight, her mahogany tresses a deep contrast to the silver-toned features of her face.

Until this moment Cullen hadn’t allowed himself to _really_ miss her- something in him knowing he wouldn’t have been able to focus and do his job if he dwelled on the sheer distance between them while he was away. Now, standing before her, looking into her upturned face, her soft and deep brown eyes wide with joy, it hit him all at once.

Longing flooded through his chest and flowed in his veins, sweet and searing. All senses heightened, he could smell the sweet hay and clean soap scent of her skin, hear the shallow draw of her breath, taste the familiar notes of vanilla on the breeze that ruffled through her hair. The silence stretched between them as he lost himself in the sense of her.

“Cullen?” her gentle voice broke his reverent contemplation. 

“Rita, I’ve missed you,” he intoned lowly, raising one hand to draw his fingers down her cheek. It was all he could do not to bend and kiss her as they flushed with heat under his touch- his lips tingling with the memory of how it had felt to press them against her blushing skin.  

“I missed you too,” her reply almost a whisper.

“I apologise I couldn’t come to see you sooner, there was much to do…”

“Oh gosh, no, it’s fine,” she interrupted quickly, “ I’m sorry too I was out hunting, training, well, both really. I took Saffy out hunting as part of his training, outside the walls….”

A low chuckle rumbled deep in his throat as he listened to the uncontrolled tumble of her words, her awkward babbling was endearing. When she trailed off and huffed in resigned embarrassment  he reached out and gently took her dainty hand in his own, drawing her eyes back to his.

“I have something that I wish to show you, if you would accompany me?” he asked, bringing the slender fingers to his lips, brushing them lightly over her knuckles.

“O-of course, yeah, yes! I mean...of course I will,”

Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm Cullen slowly led them back through his office and along the bridgeway towards the rotunda, idly fiddling with the coin he always carried in his pocket as they walked in silence. Reaching the door to the great hall he opened it for her and ushered her through with a slight bow.

The hall was dark and empty, the high vaulted ceiling lost in shadow above them. The few lit braziers were banked for the night, emitting the barest glow of coals to light their footing down the centre isle. He led her by one hand firmly clasped in his own toward the dais where the Inquisitors throne had been shunted to one side. In the middle of the raised platform, bathed in a circle of golden light from a single five pointed candelabra, was the reason for their midnight wandering.

At the first step of the dais Cullen stopped and gave her a moment for her eyes to adjust, a sharp inhalation letting him know that she’d spotted it.

Rita dropped his hand raised both her own to her lips; her mouth gaping in a perfect “oh”, and her eyes wide and glossy.

“Do you like it?” he asked tentatively, from her reaction he couldn’t tell if his gift were welcome or not.

“Cullen,” the breathy reply barely audible in the vast cavern of the vacant hall, “Oh my god, Cullen, it’s…. it’s .. I can’t….” she took an involuntary step up, eyes fixed firmly on the sweeping grand piano. It’s elegant curves and perfect ebony and ivory keys shone in the flickering candlelight.

Two steps above him she was at eye-level when she turned back, “Cullen how, I didn’t even know they existed here! How did you know?” she asked, her eyes glistened with disbelief and unshed tears as she looked again at the snow white piano.   

Taking the two steps between them in one stride Cullen placed a palm to the small of her back and encouraged her closer until they stood beside the low bench that sat before the great instrument- with a gesture he invited her to sit.

"Well, it was mostly the Lady Ambassador, I just gave her the idea, the execution was entirely her work."

“Can I?” the tremble of her body evident beneath her simple grey woollen dress, and in the long pale fingers that she reached out to gingerly stroke the silent keys.

“Please.” he acquiesced, voice low and tender.

Rita settled herself on the bench, pulling it into position underneath her. She turned and placed one hand on his arm, looking up at where he towered behind her, “Please sit? Here,” she patted the bench beside her. Only once he was perched on the end of the seat did she turn back to the piano.

Splaying her fingers wide over the glossy keys he felt her fill her lungs and infuse herself with that same peace that she conjured when she sang. Keeping as still as possible so as not to disturb her Cullen waited.

When she began to play it was so soft at first that he was barely aware it was making a sound, as her fingers danced over the keys in graceful arcs he realised- it had been so long, six months since she’d been in Thedas- it was natural she’d feel some trepidation.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, “it’s just you and I. And I wouldn’t even know if you happened to make a mistake,” she looked up at him with a grateful smile. He nodded encouragingly, and with that she squared her shoulders and placed her hands in position again.

This time her fingers flowed steady and effortless over the keys as she picked out the notes. The sound that resonated from the full body both playful and smooth, sweet and hopeful. Beginning slow and picking up speed, her hands flew, drawing music from the strings such as he’d never heard before. It was utterly mesmerising; the rhythm of the notes and rich tone of the timber, but more than that it was her.

Rita’s face was infused with delight and awe, at once gentle and vibrant, her cheeks were wet with tears and she’d never looked so beautiful as she did lost in her music as she played-  he couldn’t take his eyes off her.


	11. Yours

As the last notes resonated through the cavernous space Rita felt a weight lift that she wasn’t even aware she was carrying. It was like floating, drifting in calm space, the warm body pressed the length of her side the only thing tethering her to the ground. Amrita breathed deeply once and opened her eyes, a gentle smile on her lips as she looked up into those bottomless golden depths, and immediately all coherent thought abandoned her. Cullen. Beautiful, sweet, strong, reserved Cullen.

Everything about him made her heart throb and stutter, and the way he was looking at her, topaz eyes bruised with tenderness, radiating awe and something more… it made her breath catch. There was a deep need to express her gratitude, but the words wouldn’t come. Rita reached up to rest her fingertips lightly to his temple, at her touch his eyes slid shut and he leaned into the contact.

With measured movement, as though time had slowed around them, she gingerly cupped his face in her soft palms. Waiting until his eyes opened she fixed him with a watery gaze, heart in her eyes, and whispered, “Thank you.”

Cullen swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing under the stubble, eyes impossibly soft as he mimicked her sliding the fingers of one hand into her hair, and caressing her ear with a gentle thumb. When he spoke his voice was quiet and steady, “Ami, I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s alright…”

Amrita could only nod in reply, her heart thundering through her as he slowly leaned forward, their bodies side by side twisted towards each other on the narrow bench seat. At the light brush of his nose against hers she tilted her chin up and met his lips with hers.

The kiss was gentle, sweet and full of longing. He guided his mouth overs hers, setting the pace but never taking over, never dominating. Each press of his lips, each tilt of his head was an invitation, one she eagerly accepted.

They moved together as though they’d kissed a thousand times, but with all the kindness and wanting of a first kiss. When his tongue probed her bottom lip it was a request not a command, Rita responded with a soft sigh as her lips parted, granting him access. Cullen’s tongue danced a slow languid waltz with hers; caressing, stroking -the feel of him inside her mouth was beyond anything she could have imagined.

It was a kiss filled with all the tenderness and wanting that had been building between them, a passion born of their separation, and the intimacy of the moment- his gift to her, and her music to him. No one had ever kissed her the way he kissed her, no one ever cared the way that he cared. It was everything she could have wanted and so much more- _he_ was so much more.

Overwhelmed with sensation, of awe that he was here with her, kissing her, kissing her the _way_ he kissed her; a silent tear slid down her cheek, followed by another. Each ellipse of his thumb on her skin, each tug of his fingers in her hair, each heated breath that mingled with hers sent waves of emotion roiling through her body and drew the stream of salted droplets from her lidded eyes one after another.

She never wanted this to end, never wanted to part from him; her every cell flooded with joy and awe that he, _Cullen,_ wanted her the way that she wanted him. It was more than she ever dared to hope for.

When he broke away from her, nuzzling his nose to hers, hands still cradling her face between his large palms, he frowned- concern drawing together his deep-set brow. With one rough thumb he swiped the wet trail on her skin, “Ami, sweetheart, you’re crying….”

“I’m… Cullen, you… I can’t believe you did all this,” she looked at the now silent piano beside them, “it’s amazing and wonderful…. y _ou’re_ wonderful, and I’m just, I’m wondering what I did to ever deserve this…” she smiled weakly, a shy blush pinking her cheeks.

“So, you’re happy then?"

“Cullen, _yes,_ I’m so happy, you make me _so_ happy! I’ve never, I don’t….”  her voice broke with a new rush of tears, the swelling in her chest at the concern and relief in his honeyed eyes too much. She leaned into him and captured his mouth again in a deep and passionate kiss; her fingers spread wide over his stubbled face and neck. Rita twisted her body so she was leaning chest to chest, one knee still on the bench beside his muscled thigh, the other foot braced on the flagstones beneath them.

She felt his powerful arm wrap about her waist and tighten, drawing her firmer against him while his other hand tangled in her long loose curls and splayed across her back. His upturned mouth hungrily accepted her own as she leaned down over him, this kiss harder and more desperate than the last they were both panting in short hurried breaths when they again separated.

Chuckling lowly Cullen touched his forehead to hers, absently tugging a long wavy strand of her hair, “So I guess this wasn’t _all_ about the piano then?”

“No,” she smiled, the crow’s feet deepening in the corner of her eyes, “the piano was just a bonus. Cullen, I…. I want you, I’ve wanted you for _ever_ it seem like. I _want_ this….that is, if, if you want this too… with me, I mean. Do, do you…?” she held her breath, eyes wide and anxious.

Cullen pressed sweet kiss to her pursed lips, and another; a wide smile crinkling his own eyes as he looked up into her warm brown depths, “Yes, my sweet Amrita, I want this, with you.”

“How long?” she teased, a gleam in her eye at his declaration.

“Longer than I should admit,” he retorted with a grin.

Amrita trailed her fingertips along the nape of his neck and pushed her nails into his hair in slow rhythmic passes as they held each other’s gaze- comfortable in their newfound mutual desires. After a moment Cullen hummed, his hand giving her side a gentle squeeze, “Will you sing for me, darling? I’ve missed hearing you sing, would you play for me and sing?”

Sliding back to sit on the bench beside him, sure to keep their bodies pressed close together from shoulder to knee Amrita repositioned herself, “I have the perfect thing,” she smiled, and began to play-

_I wear your winter coat_   
_The one you love to wear_   
_So I keep feeling close_   
_To us beyond compare_   
_The moment we can have_   
_You catch me in your eyes_   
_That beauty on my pillow_   
_That holds me in the night_   
_And I will find my strength to untame my mouth_   
_When I used to be afraid of the words_   
_But with you I've learned just to let it out_   
_Now my heart is ready to burst_

_'Cause I, I feel like I'm ready for love_   
_And I wanna be your everything and more_   
_And I know every day you say it_   
_But I just want you to be sure_   
_That I'm yours_

_And if I've been feeling heavy_   
_You take me from the dark_   
_Your arms they keep me steady_   
_So nothing could fall apart_   
_And I will find my strength to untame my mouth_   
_When I used to be afraid of the words_   
_But with you I've learned just to let it out_   
_Now my heart is ready to burst_

_'Cause I, I feel like I'm ready for love_

_And I wanna be your everything and more_   
_And I know every day you say it_   
_But I just want you to be sure_   
_That I'm yours_

_That I'm yours_


	12. An Unbearable Fright

Dennet closed the half- door behind him as he exited the stall, giving the gentle hart a pat on the nose he noticed that there was still one empty box further down the row. Brow creasing he made his way to the vacant stall which was still clean and unused from the afternoon bedding change. Saffron and Gulliver both whickered from their boxes on either side, reaching their soft noses toward the Horsemaster, their large liquid eyes reflecting pinpoints of light from the lantern on the wall.  He rubbed a weathered hand across his chin stubble as he made his way back to the open undercover space that fronted the stables. Noting it was now full dark out his frown deepened.

“Warden Blackwall, have you seen Rita this afternoon?” he asked the bearded warden, who was whittling on a bench by the hearth.

“Can’t say that I have Horsemaster, not since she left to go hunting after mid-meal. Is somewhat the matter?” he set his tool on the bench beside him, blowing shavings off the small figurine he was working on.

“Mighty isn’t in his stall, it’s not like her to be out this late.”

Blackwalls eyes widened slightly, “That is unusual, perhaps check the round yard and I’ll check her quarters, see if she’s returned,” he set his carving aside and made his way up the creaking wooden stairs to the living space above.

Dennet retrieved his lantern and made his way across the darkened yard to the training space Rita had had them build. Finding it empty he hurried back to see if Blackwall had found her. He entered the stables just as the warden alit from the stairs, they shared a worried look that spoke louder than words and Dennet sprang to action.

“I’ll ready some mounts, you go get the Commander…” he began briskly, but was interrupted by a commotion at the gate. They made their way swiftly to the Hold entrance, hoping it was the woman returning but as they reached the archway a guard intercepted them.

“Master Dennet, I was just coming to fetch you.”

“Fetch me?”

“Aye Ser, we’ve found a riderless horse, came running right over the bridge and up to the gate it did, we were about to lower the portcullis…”

Dennet pushed passed the startled guard and rushed to the gate, his heart dropped when he saw it was Mighty- sweat lathered and still tacked, the Inquisition sigil on the clear on the saddle pad. The big horse wuffled deeply when it caught sight of him, pulling against his handler and prancing on the spot. Dennet reached out a calming hand and took the reins from the guard that held him.

“Blackwall, the Commander, now!” he barked over his shoulder as he bent to check the animal for injury, the big warden snapping into action before he’d even lifted a hoof.

**

Cullen sat hunched over his desk squinting at the page in front of him when he finally decided it was now too dark to see.

Since Cullen's surprise gift and subsequent confessions, he and Amrita enjoyed getting to know one another a little more. While they weren't announcing anything publicly, it wasn't uncommon for they to be found together whenever they had a little downtime from their respective duties. Cullen would stop by the stables most mornings on the premise of following up on her training of the mounted archery unit. Of an evening Rita would collect their night-meals and they'd sup together in his office, talking and laughing together over wine and chess. 

Reaching for his flint to light a candle he suddenly realised how late it was, and that Rita had not come by with their evening meal as yet. Before the frown could fully settle on his face the tower door was flung open and Ranier entered, red-faced and puffing, “Commander, come quickly.”

“What’s happened?” Cullen thrust himself to his feet, all thoughts of dinner forgotten.

“It’s the Mistress Amrita -her horse has just returned, without her.”

Cullen’s blood ran cold.

“We’re readying some mounts to go and search for her, Dennet sent me to get you…”

Cullen pushed passed him and sprinted for the stairs, Ranier close on his heels.

“Gather some men and follow behind me,” he fired the order as they ran, “Why was she out alone? Maker help me, if something has happened….“ his voice was strained and low as they reached the entranceway just as the Horsemaster arrived with two fresh mounts.

Mighty’s gear had been removed but as Cullen pulled himself into the saddle of another horse Dennet thrust the big animals’ leadrope into Cullen’s hand, “Take him with you, Commander, he may lead you to her.”

Cullen gave a sharp nod and without waiting turned his horse’s nose toward the bridge and spurred it into a canter. The loud clattering of hoof beats on the flagstones behind him let him know Blackwall followed, and more further back as additional mounts were tacked and readied.

Though Rita’s big stallion was still damp with sweat, steam rising from his white-frothed flanks he easily kept pace with Cullen’s smaller mount. As they made their way along the main road towards the tree line further below Skyhold’s snow-capped perch, Cullen’s keen eyes swept the surrounds for any sign of Amrita or her passage.

He moved swiftly, knowing the rear party would be doing a more thorough search with torches and lanterns behind them. They pushed down into the wooded slopes, the evergreen forest criss-crossed with game trails. Each time their passing startled the nocturnal wildlife the horses snorted and fussed, feeling Cullen’s tension in the air put them on edge. Mighty strained at the end of his lead, ears pricked forward and eyes large and alert.

Small puffs of breath clouded from their noses and the soft thud of hooves and jangle of tack as they moved was muffled by the canopy of snow-blanketed boughs overhead. Having left the rest of the search party far behind it was only Cullen and the pseudo-warden that pushed their way deeper into the shadowed woods, if it weren’t for that fact they may have missed the tell-tale snapping of a branch deep under the trees.

All three horses snorted and stamped at the sound, and Mighty almost pulled Cullen from the saddle as he suddenly plunged ahead in the direction it came from. Spurring his mount forward they followed a narrow game path back into the trees. Bursting into a small snow-covered clearing Cullen’s pulse quickened at the obvious signs of a scuffle in the churned and muddy slush. Undeterred, the obstinate stallion pulled towards the thick tower of an ancient fir, stretching his nose high to suck air over his palette. Tasting a scent he seemed to recognise he whinnied, the loud reverberating call shattering the stillness, his ears swivelling in every direction as he waited for a reply.

“Mighty?” came a small, weak voice from somewhere above their heads. At his name the horse answers in a throaty wuffle, his attention firmly pointed up into the tree.

“Amrita? Amrita!” Cullen called, frantically trying to see through the dark for any sign of her.

“Cullen!” she called, a little louder, “Cullen be careful…”

“Amrita, what happened? Are you hurt? Can you make it down?” his nerves frayed he couldn’t help the tumbling flow of questions, giving no room for answers. Cullen dismounted and loosely wrapped his reins around a low branch, he dropped the big bays lead knowing the animal wouldn’t go anywhere and began to circle the tree to find a foothold. As he climbed he continued to speak, the soothing words of reassurance as much for himself as for her.

“It’s alright, I’m here, you’re alright….” _Maker let her be alright._

A tiny sniffle and short tremulous breaths led Cullen to a thick branch about 20 feet above the ground where Amrita was huddled in a broad sturdy fork, shivering into her light riding cloak. Manoeuvring himself onto a nearby limb after giving it an experimental shake to be sure it would hold his weight, Cullen reached out to grasp her arm, desperate to be touching her.

“I’m here now, everything is alright.”

Once secure he called over his shoulder down to Ranier to bring a soldiers with light back to the clearing. He listened for the confirmation and the footfalls of a lone horse fading into the woods.

 “Darling, tell me what happened, please?” he implored, fighting to calm his pulse.

“I was out hunting and working on some things with Mighty, like I do all the time. We’d just entered the clearing and there was a bear cub. I tried to back up and leave, I couldn’t see the mother but I knew she’d be nearby, when I turned around though she came out of the trees and blocked the path. It put us right between her and the cub and she just, charged! There was nothing I could do!”

Amrita shook, Cullen was sure it wasn’t entirely from the cold but he removed his own cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was dressed lightly for riding and it had been a sunny day, she’d been in the tree freezing for hours by now. His only desire was to get her safely out of the tree and back to the Keep.

“I bailed when Mighty reared, in case he went over and crushed me. He was screaming and striking, it distracted the bear long enough for me to get up the tree but I lost my bow. She was going to kill him, I was so scared. I’ve been trying to teach him to go “home” by himself, so I kept yelling to him “Home, go Home”. When he ran off I wasn’t sure it would work, we’ve only tried it a few times and not from this distance.”

“It worked Rita, he’s fine, he came right up to the gates. He led us right to you,” he cooed, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to warm and soothe her.

“He did? Oh, good boy,” she called down to the waiting stallion, “Good boy Mighty,” her pride evident.

“You’ve trained him well darling. Let’s get you down out of this tree and get you both home and warm, I’d very much like to have your feet firmly back on the ground and behind stone walls.” He stepped carefully down to a lower branch and turned to help her, “Can you climb?”

“I think I can,” she nodded, then sniffed, her face pale and her nose right red with the cold, “Cullen?”

“Yes Rita?”

“Thank you, for coming to find me,” she whispered.

Cullen took her ice cold hand in his and pressed a soft kiss to her fingers, “I’ll always come for you, Ami,” he breathed. The moment hung in the air between them before he cleared his throat and he reached up to grip her around the waist. They made their way to a lower branch slowly, Cullen keeping a firm hold of her, cradling her body between the vast trunk and himself. Settling with his back to the bark he cradled her against him while they waited for reinforcements.

He let his iron-hard control slip and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hold, burying his face in her hair he was content to simply breathe her in.  

The warmth of his body slowly began to still her shivering as they waited and after a time she sighed and he felt her begin to relax. They heard the party before they saw them, several men spilled in to the clearing in a puddle of warm light. When they were sure there was no sign of the bear nearby he dropped to the ground and reached up to lift her down. As soon as her toes touched earth Cullen sighed in relief, and for once foreswore his own rules on public displays of affection he planted a hard kiss on her blue-tinged lips.

“Don’t ever frighten me like that again,” he commanded, voice low and unyielding.

“I’ll try…. I promise,” Rita responded breathlessly.

“Good.”

He swung his precious cargo up into his saddle and mounted with practiced easy behind her. After ensuring she was securely tucked against his body, one arm wrapped protectively around her, he gripped the reins in one gloved fist and urged the horse back through the game path.

The warden followed close behind, towed along by the wilful stallion who trotted alongside his mistress, occasionally poking his velvety muzzle at the tightly wrapped bundle in the Commanders arms. His unit was well trained and formed a protective guard around them without being asked. The torches lighting the way they set a safe pace and headed back to the Keep.

Horsemaster Dennet met them at stable entrance when they finally returned, hurrying over to take Cullen’s reins his concern writ large across his weather-lined features.

“Is she alright? I admit my imagination got away from me a little, I feared the worst…” he asked as Cullen dismounted. Rita had fallen asleep, exhausted and wrapped in the warmth of his coat and his arms she’d drifted off soon after they'd left the clearing.

“Mistress Rita is fine, in need of a warm fire and some rest, but none the worse for wear,” he assured quietly as he lifted her down and cradled her lax form close.

“Thank the Maker" he sighed in relief, then a moment later he fixed the larger man with a narrow glare, "she’s a good girl, Commander, you do right by her,” the old man warned. Cullen wasn’t much surprised that the shrewd stablemaster knew of their relationship, and would have been offended were it anyone else. As it was he knew the Horsemaster to be a gruff man, not inclined to warm up to many, so he knew that it came from a place of genuine care. He was instead grateful that she had such a friend looking out for her.

“I intend to, Master Dennet,” he answered solemnly, unflinchingly holding the ice-blue gaze of the older man.

“Aye, I expect you will,” he relented after a moment, and lead the horse away without a backward glance.


	13. Maybe Tonight

One of Cullen’s favourite things is kissing Amrita. Lucky for him he’s gotten to do that fairly often over the last month. In fact, with her snuggled into his side in the crook of his arm, he’s thinking about kissing her again.

Being away from her will be hard, harder than the last time, but he felt a certain responsibility for Sampson and he needed to be there when they raided his hideout. In the morning they were leaving for the Shrine of Dumat, but for now he was content to sit with his sweetheart, and their friends, and play some cards.

“Curly, are you in?” Varric asks, interrupting his wandering thoughts.

“Uh, yes, I believe I am,” he jolts back to the game.

“Distracted Commander?” Josephine titters behind her cards.

“Can you blame him, my dear,” Dorian teases, a sly sideways wink at Rita, earning him a wide smile.

“Can we just… play cards?” came Cullen’s plaintive reply.

“Would you like to be dealt in, Songbird?” Varric asked her.

“Ah, no thank you Varric, I can’t get the straight of it. The whole idea is to cheat? I think I’ll sit this one out,” she nods at the dwarf across the crowded table in the great hall, where they’d gathered for a friendly round or two of Wicked Grace.

“Perhaps for the best, you’re just too honest my sweet,” Cullen smirks, bending to press a quick kiss to the top of her head, ignoring Rita’s exaggerated gasp of protest.

Several of their party giggle, some roll their eyes, and others just smile to themselves and shake their heads. The great and fearsome Commander, infamous former Knight-Captain of Kirkwall, affectionate lover- Varric sums up the general feeling among the group, “Ah Curly, who’d have ever thought,” he chuckled deep in his chest.

 “It’s positively sickening,” Dorian feigned disgust, but couldn’t keep the corner of his lip from quirking up when he caught her eye.

“In that case, how about some music Songbird, do you have a little something up your sleeve to entertain us at our game?” Varric asks her.

“I, ah…. sure. I have something in mind, just for you,” she flashes the table a quick shy smile when Cullen presses a light kiss to her cheek before letting her leave his side.                                             

Amrita takes her seat before the grand piano and gathers herself, it’s a little daunting, she never really played for audiences but these were her friends. _I can do this._

Resting her long elegant fingers on the keys she began-

 _On a warm summer's evenin' on a train bound for nowhere,_  
 _I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep._  
 _So we took turns a starin' out the window at the darkness_  
 _'Til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak._  
  
_He said, "Son, I've made my life out of readin' people's faces,_  
 _And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes._  
 _So if you don't mind my sayin', I can see you're out of aces._  
 _For a taste of your whiskey I'll give you some advice. "_  
  
_So I handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow._  
 _Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light._  
 _And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression._  
 _Said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right._  
  
_You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,_  
 _Know when to walk away and know when to run._  
 _You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table._  
 _There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done._  
  
_Now Ev'ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin'_  
 _Is knowin' what to throw away and knowing what to keep._  
 _'Cause ev'ry hand's a winner and ev'ry hand's a loser,_  
 _And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep. "_  
  
_So when he'd finished speakin', he turned back towards the window,_  
 _Crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep._  
 _And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even._  
 _But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep._  
  
_You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,_  
 _Know when to walk away and know when to run._  
 _You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table._  
 _There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done._

When she finished the table clapped and Varric was laughing, full-bellied, and slapping his knee, “That sounds about right, Songbird. Sounds about right.”

“Hey, do me next!” Bull called excitedly.

“Careful how you say that, Amatus, I might get jealous.”

“Well actually,” Rita smirked, “if anyone were right for this song it would be you Bull, it’s about a doctor… sort of,”

“A doctor, what’s that?”

“A healer, in fact this doctor is a healer specifically for teeth but, if you listen _very carefully,_ you’ll notice it’s not really about a doctor at all,” she says, winking and arching an eyebrow. As the measured jazz notes thrummed from the fat-bellied piano, she swayed her shoulders, smiled salaciously and put on her best “come hither” expression; the whole naughty show- nothing less would do for The Iron Bull.

_I got a dentist_

_Who's over seven feet tall._   
_Oh I got a dentist baby_

_The man is over seven feet tall._   
_His name is Doctor Long John_   
_And he answers every call._

_You know, I went to Long John's office._   
_I said, Doctor, the pain is_

_…killing me._   
_Oh I went to Long John's office_   
_I said, Doctor, the pain is_

_… killing me._   
_He said, Don't worry, baby_   
_It's just your cavity needs a little filling._

_He took out his trusty drill._   
_Told me to open wide._   
_He said he wouldn't hurt me,_   
_But he filled my whole inside_

_._   
_Oh Jesus Long John, don't you never go away._   
_Cause you thrill me when you drill me,_   
_And I don't need no novocain today._

_Oh, when he got done drillin' he said,_   
_Oh baby that is going to cost you_

_… ten._   
_-I thought it was more like twelve, twelve and a half -_   
_Yeah, yeah, when he got done drillin' he said,_   
_Sweet mama, that is going to cost you_

_…ten._   
_But if it ever starts in to throbbing,_   
_Come back and see old Long John_   
_Again and again and again and again and again._   
_Oh, yeah!_

The last high note bounced back from the vaulted ceiling and stone walls of the great hall to silence from the group at the table, all play and conversation has stopped. Rita suddenly began to feel very self-conscious, after all Thedas was nothing like modern Earth. She bit her lip and dropped her eyes to her hands twisting nervously in her lap, a low flush creeping across her cheeks.

 

“Ah-Haaa!” Bulls delighted laugh boomed through the silent hall, snapping the rest from their stupor.

 

“Well, that was certainly something. Commander, did you know your lady was such a minx?” Dorian teased, eyes still slightly wide with surprise.

 

The rest of the companions were laughing merrily, and the cards and drinking had resumed.

 

Rita looked up, a shy smile on her lips and a pretty blush colouring her cheeks, catching Cullen’s gaze it deepened to a dark rose. His leonine eyes are bright and fixed intently on hers, a glimmer of something deep and primal shift behind them as they hold their stare, the rest of his features smooth and expressionless under his tight control. It makes her insides weak and warm, perhaps tonight would be the night?

 

She watched his mask slip a little, a flash of confusion at her smouldering smirk and then heat, and hunger, before he quickly shuttered them back behind a calm façade.

 

Yes, perhaps tonight.

 

Turning back to the piano Rita played some lounge music, designed to blend in and subtly amplify the general mood of fun and contentment of the party without intruding, and it allowed her mind free to wander while her fingers danced.

 

**  

 

The dreamy far-away look on her face kept drawing Cullen’s attention time and again. He was barely concentrating on the game and his dwindling pile of coin was proof of that. Not that he cared. When he wasn’t casting surreptitious glances at Rita he was considering all the possible ways this night might go once they were alone.

After 9 rounds of Wicked Grace, Cassandra quickly followed by Josephine decided to call it a night. Cullen stood as they left the table and made his way over to sit by Rita as she finished up another number.

“Are you ready for bed sweetling?” he asked, brushing a long strand of curling hair behind over her shoulder he pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the side of her exposed neck.

“I am, it’s been a fun night, even if a little embarrassing,” she pulled a face and dropped her gaze to her lap.

Cullen reached up to brush featherlight fingertips along her jaw, a suggestion to raise her eyes which she followed, “You shouldn’t be embarrassed about your gift you have a beautiful voice, beautiful everything,” he smiled when she blushed, a warmth flooding through his chest at the sight, “I wonder if I can work this into my strategy, I’ve never seen The Iron Bull stunned speechless, let alone a room full of professional talkers, squawkers and big-mouths.” He raised his voice just enough on the last.

“Heyyy!”

“You what?!”

“Well, I never!”

The chorus of indignation that erupted behind them only made his eyes sparkle with mirth and the crow’s feet deepen, but he never looked away. Circling a thumb gently over her cheekbone he leaned forward to brush his lips lightly over her ear. Warm breath tickling her hair he lowered his voice, just for her to hear, “Will you stay with me tonight, darling?”

They had spent plenty of nights together, Rita wrapped securely in his powerful arms as they slept, but the words tonight were infused with something more and he felt the tremor that crept up her spine. Of course each of them had had previous bed partners, but by some unspoken agreement they weren’t rushing things with each other, instead simply enjoying this thing that was growing between them.

She was like no woman he’d ever met, the way he felt about her made him desperate to get things right. When she nodded assent, bottom lip held enticingly between her teeth, his heart stuttered. Not caring about the potential audience Cullen couldn’t have stopped himself from stealing a kiss, tilting her chin up with a gentle hand he placed a single slow press of his lips to hers.

The bubble they’d created around themselves suddenly burst when the whole table of their companions started clapping and cheering. Breaking apart Cullen smiled sheepishly and rubbed at his nape while Rita giggled into his shoulder.

‘Uh, yes, thank you, ahem…. Rita?” he stood and reached out a hand to his sweetheart. Rising from the bench she threaded their fingers together and followed as he led them from the hall to the catcalls of their friends. Warmth suffused him as Cullen walked hand in hand with his Ami through Solas’ rotunda and across the bridge to the tower. There was an energy between them, an air of anticipation, and he knew- they were ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided there needed to be a buffer of fluff, perhaps some smut before things go sideways.....


	14. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alternate title.... SEX!

In Cullen’s office Amrita’s insides churned with excitement. They had been taking things slow, getting to know one another, enjoying each other’s company and the simpler parts of a new relationship. The more time she spent with him, the more she learned, the further she found herself falling. Though he had intimated that he expected her to change her opinion of him the more she knew, only the opposite had been true. It was still a work in progress to convince him of that, especially when he was having bad days with his health, but for the most part he seemed to relax into their relationship a little more each day.

Tonight, when he’d pulled her down onto the chair beside him, and wrapped an arm about her as they talked and played with their friends it seemed he’d finally accepted that she wasn’t going anywhere, and seemed even a little proud to lay claim to her in the semi-public setting of their gathering. It warmed her all the way to her toes when he kissed her openly, as much from the kiss as the implication.

Tuning now to watch as he locked the door behind them she couldn’t help but feel butterflies at what this might mean for them.

“My dear, head up to the loft, I’ll finish locking up here and be up in a moment,” Cullen suggested, resting a hand on her hip and pressing a quick familiar kiss to her temple, he gave her a nudge toward the small staircase that lead to his room above the office.

“Alright, but don’t be too long,” she gave a little half smile, and put an extra wiggle in her walk as she turned away, earning her a playful swat on the backside and a low warm chuckle.

Rita made her way upstairs and began lighting a few candles, she could hear the jangle of keys and the heavy heal of his boots as he moved around the space below, and every moment the build of anticipation grew. She wasn’t shy about sex, her arrangement with Rylen had begun after a single chance meeting and a few drinks at the tavern, and she knew Cullen was not a chaste Templar, but somehow it had felt right to let things progress as they would with him. It was no chore, sure she felt the urges from time to time but if she were honest, any time that she spent with Cullen was satisfying in it’s own way that she didn’t really miss the physical aspect of things that keenly. Now that she was faced with the prospect of getting to the more intimate parts with him though, the more the coals low in her belly began to flare up into flames. She smiled to herself as she removed her plain grey woollen dress and her stockings and shoes, left in just her fine cotton undershirt and smallclothes she climbed into her side of the bed- the side away from the hatch- and snuggled down into the heavy covers as the sound of footsteps on the stairs made her shiver.

Appearing in the hatch-way Cullen had removed his heavy cloak and gloves already and was in the process of pulling his plain linen shirt over his head. The vision of his broad muscular chest and the tufts of pale golden hair there flexing as he did so made her squeeze her thighs together. She’d seen this much of him and more many times but it never failed to make her catch her breath. He was a beautiful man, inside and out.

As he carefully folded his shirt he caught her peering from behind the covers and smirked. He sat on the end of the bed and worked unhurriedly on his boot laces, then his soft leather trousers and set them all tidily by his chest, making sure to stretch and flex she was sure, knowing how much she enjoyed watching.

In only his cotton undershorts he slid into the cool sheets beside her, wasting no time pulling her body closer so she lay in his arms, his form touching along the full length of hers. Never did she feel more safe, more at home than in his solid embrace. Humming in pleasure she tipped her head back to capture his mouth with hers. There was nothing like the feel of his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth, the taste of him when they kissed- it always made her pulse quicken, and tonight there was something more, an edge, a hunger that until now he’d kept tightly reined.     

Between fevered kisses Cullen murmured, “Ami, my Ami.”

“I am,” she whispered breathlessly, pausing to capture his face between her small palms. She looked up into his eyes, blown wide and dark, and felt her heart thud heavily in her chest. There was nervousness but also excitement, “I am yours… Cullen, I want to be _completely_ yours.  That is… if that’s, if you…..” she trailed off, biting the edge of her lip as she searched his face.

Cullen stilled and held her gaze, his own piercing and thoughtful, and though his chest pushed against her in an elevated rhythm he took his time searching her eyes for any hint of apprehension. Satisfied when he found none, he answered, still needing to hear it out loud, “It is. I do. If you are sure, sweetling, nothing would make me happier than to show you how very much you mean to me. Is this what you want?” he asked, voice clear and steady, leonine eyes flickering between her own dark browns. Amrita knew he’d accept nothing less than an honest, considered response.

Wanting there to be no confusion or second-guessing of her answer, Rita swallowed to steady her voice and stared directly into his topaz eyes, hands still cupping his jaw she spoke, “Yes, Cullen, I want this, tonight, if you’ll have me.”

The smile grew slowly until it was beaming at her with all the brightness of the midday sun, “My Ami, my own sweet girl,” he intoned with a joy and reverence that threatened to burst her heart in her ribs. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled Cullen down into a deep, passionate kiss, determined that he should know she felt the same.

He leaned down, bracing his weight on one forearm he roamed her skin anywhere he could find it with one large rough hand. Sliding his fingers under her shirt he ran them up and down from her hip to her breast. Feeling that she’d removed her band he cupped one modest mound perfectly in the curve of his palm. Taking the throaty moan as assent he kneeded and tweaked her nipple to a stiff peak before tracing the length of her back to grasp a handful of her rear. Rita acquiesced to the subtle suggestion and lifted her leg to wrap around him, her own hands thoroughly occupied deep in his soft golden curls. As she scraped her nails over his scalp he groaned and rolled to cover her body with his own.

Now settled between her legs, thighs wide to accommodate his muscled bulk, she felt him slowly lowering his weight until she could feel his heavy, hard length pressed firm against her mound. The sheer size of him made her gasp in anticipation and she rolled her hips up to grind herself into him. Eliciting a deep growl from her lover he gave two quick, hard thrusts in retaliation that had her seeing stars.

Suddenly she needed more, close wasn’t close enough. Abandoning his locks she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled, once he knew what she was after he lifted back to allow her room to remove the garment and took the opportunity to truly look at her; pale, bare breasts topped with delicate pink buds, the valley between them heaving with her breathing, her soft stomach rolling with each movement as she flung the cloth into the darkness. Free again, her hands made their way to slip beneath the fabric of his only remaining clothing and she dragged him down again into the crook of her body, desperate to feel him over her throbbing core.

Cullen, glassy-eyes with desire fell upon her breasts like a man starving; his mouth hot and wet, lips plump and seeking he explored her with fervour, enticing the little nubs to life with every lave of tongue and nip of teeth. Amrita’s body flushes with sensation; the heat radiating from his body, the earthy scent of his skin, clean and warm, shocks of pleasure shoot through her from his attentions on her breasts, his breath on her skin, the heady taste of him lingering on her mouth- it was deliciously overwhelming.

“Cullen, darling,” she breathed into the hair by his ear, while her hands worked to push his undershorts down his perfectly curved buttocks and massive thighs. Shifting momentarily Cullen shoved his shorts off and kicked them over the side of the bed.

Now completely naked he eyed the final piece of clothing still covering her. Slipping his fingertips under the band of her underwear he slid them down the creamy length of her elegant legs, keeping a measured pace as he teases her with his light touch, a small sly smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. When he frees her foot from the flimsy pair of knickers he just as slowly makes his way back up, pressing tender kisses in the wake of his palm, up her calf, behind her knee, along her thigh to her hipbone.

While the hand continues traveling up her waist the firm wet tip of his tongue meanders its way across her stomach, traversing her navel and finally stops over the protrusion of the other hip. The purely predatory look when his golden eyes finally meet hers takes her breath away, and she knows in that moment that he wants her as much as she wants him, and it makes her feel that finally- she belongs.

**

Still holding the bulk of his weight up on one elbow, Cullen’s free hand traces the curve of her breast and abdomen, following the dips and landmarks of her flesh to find its way to her centre. Careful to move slowly he lifts her thigh and sets it aside to give him an unobstructed view of her. The delicate dusky pink folds, glistening with her arousal greet him, and his nostrils fill with the sweet, clean musk of her. He caught her eye, a question in his own, and with a gentle push of one hand atop his head it was all the answer he needed.

Her scent sends his pulse higher, and nothing could have stopped him from dipping his tongue to taste her while she allowed it. The small sounds that fell from her lips as he explored her with his mouth, probed her with his tongue were music to his ears. Giving every crease, every hollow his thorough attention, Cullen drew soft sighs and sharp cries from his lover.

If he died right then, he believed he’d go with a smile on his face, happy. He’d imagined what this would be like any number of times, what she’d taste like, feel like, and was pleased to find he was nowhere close to the reality. She invaded his senses, drowning him in her essence and it was heavenly.

Taking her protruding nub between his lips as she writhed and panted beneath him Cullen sucked, nothing compared to the feeling of utter satisfaction as his Ami arched and came across his eager tongue. Listening to her breathlessly call his name as she fell apart, feeling the throbbing of her sex under his mouth while her hands twisted in his hair, tugging at his scalp, was pure bliss.

Making Amrita come had him so hard it was almost painful, already beading with precome he rubbed himself against her hip as he made his way back up the bed with feline grace and power, shoulders and back rippling with the movement. When again they were face to face he captured her mouth in a long, slow kiss, deep and unhurried he let her taste herself inside his mouth.

Cupping her cunt in his large palm she ground herself against it, gasping as he entered her with one digit, quickly followed by another. She began to fuck herself on his hand while he possessed her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing every moan, every whimper.

At the limit of his endurance he shifted, positioning himself at her entrance he gave himself a few quick strokes to coat himself with her slick before pressing the head of his cock against her. With one final glance to ensure she was ready, he sank himself into her, hilting deep with three long, firm thrusts. Groaning as his hips met hers, Cullen paused to take in the realisation that it was really happening, finally he was inside of her, and nothing had ever felt better in his life than being buried balls-deep in _this_ woman- his Ami.

Long elegant legs wrapped around his waist and squeezed, pulling him closer, deeper into her warm, welcoming body, and Cullen began to move. He withdrew his heavy, thick length half way before rolling back in, grinding against her core at the end of each pump of his hips.

His mouth worked every inch of her skin that he could between ardent kisses and whispered endearments. Amrita rocked with each thrust, taking him deep, and he could feel her walls pulsing around him, the exquisite rhythmic pressure drawing low groans from his throat.

He ran his free hand under the curve of her ass and down to the crook behind her knee, he lifted her leg and pushed her knee towards her chest. The new angle opened her up further and allowed him to reach deep into her centre, he could feel himself hitting the end of her body and it made him groan in absolute pleasure.

Every moan, grunt, and gasp he uttered she echoed. A cacophony of lust and longing, pleasure and passion; it only heightened their sense of togetherness.  

Gripping her hip with one large hand and pushing the other underneath their writhing bodies he cradled Rita with the other between her shoulder blades, locking his arms he rolled. Rita’s surprised exhalation at finding herself suddenly atop him turned into a long whine of pleasure as he roughly grasped two handfuls of her plump backside and began to grind her down while his powerful thighs flexed, driving him up into her tight, wet heat.

The sight of his sweetheart above him, eyes closed and mouth open in ecstasy, head lolling back allowing the soft sweep of her lose dark curls to brush tantalisingly over his skin while she rode him was almost enough to push him over the edge. Determined that he tend his woman first Cullen tilted his pelvis to push hard against that spot deep within her and reached one hand down press a hard thumb to her throbbing clit. Rolling the digit in small, firm circles he felt her respond instantly; everything tightened, their smooth flowing rhythm became choppy and rigid as her body readied itself for release. His thick and throbbing cock clamped between her pulsing muscles swelled further as he neared his own end.

Both panting and dewed with sweat, flesh trembling and taut, they hovered for one bright moment before Rita’s orgasm crashed through her with a force. Cullen fought to keep his eyes open to watch her come apart as her whole being compressed around him. Her face suffused with impossible pleasure as she came, the collective effect was enough to drag him over the edge into oblivion.   

Coming together at the height of their coupling was overwhelming, Cullen had never felt anything like it. Every nerve sang, every synapse fired, his whole body focussed on the agonisingly sweet sensation of his seed forcefully ejecting from his cock in an everlasting moment of pure bliss.

 As they crested the wave of their high and began to slowly drift back down, Rita lowered herself to lay chest to chest over him, nestling her head on the crook of his shoulder she pressed tiny feather-light kisses to the side of his neck.

Still lovingly cradled deep in the caressing core of his sweetheart, Cullen could feel the convulsing aftershocks of her orgasm gently milking every last drop of his spend from his softening member, prolonging the sweetness of their joining longer than he’d ever experienced before.

He never wanted this to end. The feeling of complete contentment, satisfaction, and something more as they held each other, as he rested inside her, the warm and soft places everywhere they touched, the comforting weight of her on his chest, the light brush of her lips on fevered skin, the aching swell of his heart within him- Love.

This was love.

Though his every sense was overstimulated and hypersensitive until he thought it wasn’t possible to contain another single feeling, this realisation cut through it all. It filled him with awe, everything else faded into the background as it expanded and engulfed him whole. His arms tightened around the woman who suddenly was the absolute centre of his existence, and let the heady wonder of his love for her swallow and absorb him until he was nothing but the man who loved her.

When he could think again Cullen lifted his sweethearts face to his and kissed her deep and slow. Still coming to terms with his revelation he tucked it away safe inside, something to savour and enjoy while on the road, and wait for the right moment to share it with her. For now he shared her lips and her breath and it was enough. It was more than enough- it was everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so i fucking hate that ladder, so in my HC there is a small wooden corner staircase between the door to the broken wall and the door to the rotunda.... and no one can tell me different !


	15. Before the Dawn

Though they’d been up late into the night Cullen found himself awake in the pre-dawn hour, the last stars still visible through the hole in his roof as the eastern horizon undoubtedly was beginning to lighten. Curled around the soft and peaceful form of his Ami, cocooned under the warmth of their blankets he was content. It was a feeling he’d known very little of in the last 11 years.

Soothed by the measured inhale and exhale of her breathing in her peaceful slumber he was struck again by the wonder of the previous evening’s discovery. With infinite tenderness he watched her restful face, studying every line and contour, every perfect imperfection in the blue-toned half-light. How was he to cope being away from her for the next three weeks? He traced the pale of her brow with one feather-light fingertip, around the delicate shell of her ear, and the long graceful curve of her neck to her collarbone. Brushing back a thick dark curl to expose the expanse of flawless skin he bent to drag parted lips over her shoulder, a barely-there touch but for the warmth of his breath that caused her eyelashes to flutter.

Tightening his arms around her Cullen pulled the slowly rousing woman close, nestling the full length of her body against his. He could tell the moment she became lucid, her consciousness fully shedding the shroud of sleep, and she became aware of his erection in the crease of her ass. Though yet to open her eyes she smiled and hummed as she canted her hips back to firmly press against his morning wood. Long legs stretched down beneath the sheets, small feet threading between his own, and one languid hand rose to cradle his sleep-tossed curls as he continued plying her with tiny kisses.

“Awake so early, darling,” she greeted him.

“Not by choice, sweetling,” he said lowly into her skin, “but, since we are, I thought...” he gave her a playful nip before kissing the spot.

“Ah, I see,” she turned in his arms to face him, head resting on their shared pillow, noses touching, “well, we certainly wouldn’t want to waste this opportunity. You’ll be leaving soon and….I’m going to miss you,” she murmured, the happy smile melted from her expression, solemnity taking its place.

“Rita, my sweet girl, let’s not think of that just now,” Cullen cupped her cheek in a large palm and drew them into a soft kiss. Their mouths moved together in a languid dance of lips and tongues, as though they had all the time in the world. Gradually the heat built until Cullen shifted to resettle his broad bulk above her and delved deep, sucking the air from her lungs in a searing kiss. Being inside her mouth, tasting her- his hunger flared to life.

**

As rough-calloused hand made its way down her body and found itself between her thighs. Rita sighed at his touch and hooked her leg over his hip, pressing her heel into the firm roundness of his impossibly perfect ass. She wrapper her arms about his neck, pushing the nails of one hand up his nape and into his soft golden locks while scraping the other over the rippling muscles of his broad shoulders and back.

She loved the feeling of his weight covering her from toe to head, every inch of touching skin burning with need for more. She wants to feel him everywhere. Panting from his petting she reaches down and wraps her fingers around his cock and shifts her hips, wanting him, letting him know she was ready.

Cullen takes himself in hand and teases her clit with the dewy droplets leaking from the swollen head, sending shocks through her and driving the need deep in her core to desperate heights. Clinging to his bicep she can feel each powerful flexion as he coats himself in her ample slick before sliding home in one smooth motion. The involuntary cry that falls from her lip is more animal than woman, and she can tell it has an effect on him. Gripping her hip hard in one hand, blunt fingertips pressing into the bone, he laces the other with hers and pins it to the mattress beside her head and begins to thrust hard.

Giving her no time to catch her breath her head spins as he fills her over and over again-the man knows how to fuck!

With her one free hand Rita clutches at a handful of his delectable peach, dinging her nails into the blonde fuzz-covered cheek as she hangs on. The frantic creaking of the bed and rapid thud of the frame against the stone walls a perfect tempo to accompany his bass-deep grunts and her counterpointing high, breathy harmony.

Still pinning her hand in a crushing grip Cullen leavers himself to balance low over his widespread knees, and pulls her bottom half up into his lap causing her back to arch sharply, shoulders pressed hard into the bed and breasts thrust towards the ceiling. The new angle allows his blessed cock to ram head-first into her cervix, the delicious tendril of pain mixing with the pleasure and accelerating her rise to peak. From the sweat beading on his creased brow and upper lip, and dewing amongst the fine covering of pale hair on his chest he was right there with her.

Now shoving himself up into her front wall the pressure on that magic spot inside her intensified, and within moments she felt her whole body buck uncontrollably with the force of her orgasm. Cullen, digging the fingers of the hand that still supported her into her lower back gave a loud resonant shout as her followed her into bliss.

They were suspended in the pure gleaming moment of their pleasure for heartbeats before suddenly crashing back to reality with the heavy pounding of a mailed fist on the tower door. The dual startled gasps from each of them turned into breathless laughter. Rita felt her cheeks turn dark at the realisation that whoever was at the door would have heard them, and knowing she’d have to leave the tower, likely to walk right by them.

Cullen chucked and leaned forward to press full, sloppy kisses to her surprised mouth, “duty calls, then,” he smiled down at her, eyes sparkling, “didn’t waste a minute.”


	16. Doom @ Dumat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late, I've been crook. But here it is, it's time to flick the switch!

It didn’t take long for the party to be ready to depart. Only the Inquisitor, three of her inner circle, and a squad of scouts and soldiers were accompanying her to Dumat.

And Cullen.

Just as she did when he last left Skyhold, Rita was readying his horse while he oversaw the final preparations and briefed his Second on the maintenance of the Keep in his absence.

Leading the readied mount she approached him taking in the familiar outline of his fully six-foot frame; his broad shoulders under the well-worn fur mantled cloak-  watching him in his element it made her heart flip.

He exuded confidence, competence, strength, and his very presence had power. She could see the calming influence in the people around him that snapped to attention when he spoke, the way they diligently went about their tasks. The quiet and inexorable efficiency of the Inquisition owed itself to the Commander at its epicentre.

She took a moment to commit the image to memory, and somehow it helped to tamp down the anxiety of his leaving. He was powerful, he was strong and careful, and smart- all the things he would need to keep him safe.

 As he turned towards the stables his eyes landed on her  and his whole face lit up with a brilliant smile. The new sunrise bathed the gates in amber and coated him in warmth and light, his gilded curls aglow and topaz eyes sparking. Amrita’s heart not only flipped but started doing the can-can, and she couldn’t help the huge stupid grin that automatically responded to his.

Closing the distance between he sauntered towards her, meeting in the middle of the stable yard. Cullen’s hands came to rest on the curve of her waist as soon as she was withing reach. Curling  down to bring his mouth closer to her upturned lips he pressed a soft kiss in greeting.

“Darling, are you heading out once I’ve left?” he indicated Mighty standing idly over her shoulder.

“Oh, no, actually he’s, I got him ready for you.”

 Cullen’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, then beetled sceptically as he appraised the big bay horse, “Sweetheart, he’s your horse, and I’d very much like avoid getting imprints of  his teeth in my skin.”

“He’s the best, Cullen I want you to have the best. He’ll keep you safe, bring you home”

“Patch has always brought me home, and he’s less likely to take my fingers with his toast,” he snorted.

“Oh, ha ha, you’re so funny,” Rita poked him in the chest, only hitting the hard metal of his armour, “And Mighty likes raw carrots. Just, please? For me? It’ll make me feel better,” she gave him her best puppy eyes, looking up at him through her dark lashes.

“I suppose I can manage the brute for a few weeks, for you,” he acquiesced, feigning deep reluctance before bending to kiss her again. She felt his smile upon her lips and threw her arms about his neck to lengthen their contact. Breaking apart with a contended hum Cullen slid his hands around her body to splay across the small of her back, and tugged her into a tight hug.

“Thank you my dear, I think he’ll surprise you though. He’s matured since you first met, he’s ready. You’ll have to tell me how he performs when you get back.”

His lopsided grin and twinkling eyes when he pulled back signified mischief, before he replied, “I look forward to the _debrief_.”

Rita rolled her eyes at his bad pun but laughed anyway, it wasn’t lost on her that a bare few months ago he wouldn’t have even made a joke. It seemed her young stallion wasn’t the only one that had changed.

“Commander,” a runner dashed up carrying Cullen’s pack and bedroll, “the Inquisitor is ready to depart, I brought your things as you requested.”

“Thank you, I’ll be along directly,” he nodded at the young girl as he took his gear and turned to fasten it to the back of Mighty’s saddle. Once secure, and he’d tightened the girth, he was ready to mount. With a final soft kiss he took the reins from Rita’s hand and lifted one booted foot to the stirrup to swing himself astride the large stallion. “That’s a stretch, when did he get taller than my old charger?” he asked absently as he settled into his seat and gathered his reins on one gloved fist.

Rita stepped to his side, one hand resting on Cullen’s knee and the other on the quivering neck of the big horse, “You take care, be safe, and come home soon. I’ll… I’ll miss you.”

She felt the heat tingling behind her eyes a moment before the gentle brush of leather-clad fingers on her cheek. He tipped her chin up to make her meet his eyes, “I will think of you every moment I’m away, my Ami. And I will return to you as swiftly as I can.”

The softness in his honeyed gaze flooded her with warmth, and pushed a lone salty droplet down her cheek. Smiling bravely she stepped back towards her horses head. Getting the obstinate stallions attention she addressed him, her tone stern, “You take care of him, do you understand? Bring him home safe.”

Mighty rolled an eye to take in the man on his back, then seemed to huff in agreement before bunting his master in the chest for a pat. “That’s my good boy,” she stroked the long nose one final time.

“We’ll be alright sweetling, we’ll look after each other.”

Mighty gave a destinctly derisive snort which made her laugh.

“That’s my girl,” Cullen smiles down at her as he turns the horse toward the gates, “I’ll see you very soon, Ami.”

She caught the faint _oh_ of surprise from her lover when the horse sprang forward at the slightest squeeze of his legs, but he immediately adjusted to the responsiveness of his mount. Reaching the gates and the gathered group he threw one last glance back over his shoulder, and raised a hand as he passed under the portcullis and out of sight.  

He’d gone on trips before, but things had changed. She felt his absence like a physical pain, and this time he’d be away for three weeks. Standing in the stable yard, heart aching and eyes streaming Rita recognised it for what it was – Love.

**

Thick smoke burned his eyes and filled his nostrils with the acrid stench of ash and blood. His lungs seared with every ragged breath, though they pumped in his chest like bellows he felt suffocated, unable to get enough air. Under it all his veins screamed against the invading lyrium. The malevolent crimson poison pulsed through his body, crawling further along his vessels with each erratic thud in his chest.

He’d been alright until the fire. As the Shrine burned the plumes of smoke swirling in the air all around them pushed the toxic substance directly into his body. By the time he realised what was happening Cullen’s vision had begun to spot and he was staggering as they fled Sampson’s abandoned lair.

Hauling himself into the saddle sapped the last of his energy. He slumped over the big horses’ neck and managed a single word of command and a silent prayed that it was heard as he slipped into black oblivion-

“Home.”  


	17. Bird without a Song

The camp was in chaos in the wake of the Inquisitors return. The only two healers were run ragged treating those that had suffered wounds in the skirmish at the shrine, and still more that had inhaled the smoke. The healers had informed her that they’d had only two fatalities, one soldier that had been run through during the initial charge, and a Templar that had succumbed to the toxic clouds of red-tinged smoke from the burning shrine.

The report had said due to their prolonged blue lyrium use it made them more susceptible to the toxic effects of the red. They’d had to treat several others for red lyrium poisoning, those that had been stationed close to the temple, but Trevelyan was grateful to hear that they were quickly recovering.

 While the soldiers handled Sampson’s human followers that had been left to guard the inroads to the hideout, the Inquisitors party entered and dealt with the monsters, the behemoths and red Templars, warped by the blighted lyrium until unrecognisable from the men and women they had once been. To think her own Commander might have been one of them in different circumstances…

_Cullen!_

“Where is the Commander?”

She couldn’t remember seeing him since they’d staggered from the burning shrine, figuring he was likely doing what he does out among their troops. In the hours following their return to camp there had been so much going on, the pieces hadn’t connected until that moment. Red lyrium in the smoke. Cullen’s delicate health. Her pulse began to pick up.

“Can someone please fetch Commander Cullen for me, right away?”

“Yes, your Worship,” a nearby scout saluted and dashed off to locate their general.

**

“How about some music Songbird, I’m sure the nobility won’t mind if you grace them with a tune?” Varric tried to sooth the agitated woman.

“No.” Rita, pale and trembling continued pacing in front of his hearth; half a dozen short quick steps with a sharp turn st the end, and repeat.

“I miss your singing, I haven’t even heard you play in a week…”

“No, Varric. I can’t.”

“It might help you to feel better, calm your nerves….”

“I _can’t!_ Can’t you see that I can’t? There is nothing to sing about. I’m _scared_ , Varric! No-one tells me anything because I’m not important enough. The last word I had was the letter Cullen sent me himself the day they arrived at the camp. It’s been two weeks! They were meant to be home by now, and nothing!” she turned to the dwarf, pale and drawn face, dark circles stark on her colourless skin.

“I’m sure everything is fine, it’s not unusual for the Inquisitor to get diverted on an expedition. There’s always something someone needs, or someone she has to stop and help…”

“And if that were the case he’d have told me. I received three letters in that first week, right up until the day before they attacked Sampson’s stronghold. Something is _wrong_ , and no-one will tell me,” the tears she’d been fighting against finally won.

“Well, perhaps I can help then.”

“How?”

“Where do all the reports in and out of Skyhold go?”

“To the rookery, the Spymaster, but Varric I’m just a horse trainer, she won’t, I can’t…”

“Sure you can, Leliana happens to be a friend of mind. C’mon, I’m sure it’s just an oversight,” he took one small cold hand in his, patting her arm reassuringly with the other before leading them through the rotunda.

“Is there anyone you don’t know?” she asked.

He laughed in reply and guided her to the stairs.

The tap of her boots echoed loudly off the curved stone walls as Rita ascended the winding staircase tucked around the cavernous round room. Her hands twisted nervously in the hem of her shirt as she  followed Varric up through the library .

She’d never spoken with the Spymaster before, but she’d heard many of the stories. By all accounts Sister Nightingale was not a woman you wanted to cross. But, she had to know.

“Master Tethras, a pleasant surprise. What brings you to my door old friend?”

“Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Sister?”

“In my experience, everyone who knocks on my door needs something,” she smirked.

“I’m shocked and appall…. Yeah, okay, you got me.”

“I see you’ve brought a friend,” she lifted one sharp eyebrow, and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yes, Sister Nightingale, this is Miss Amrita, a humble horse trainer of the Inquisition…. But you already knew that,” he smiled slyly, “so you’ll also know why she’s here.”

The spymaster narrowed her eyes at the unrepentant dwarf before sliding her ice-blue stare directly over to Rita. It felt like she suddenly was an open book, and the terrifying woman could see her every thought. It took every ounce of mettle not to cower under that piercing gaze.

Suddenly the Sister's arms dropped and she huffed out a loud sigh, “I was actually expecting you sooner, Miss Amrita. I know who you are and why you are here, and I’m afraid the news is not good.”

Rita felt the blood drain from her face, and the bile rise in the back of her throat.

“Woah there Songbird,” Varric gripped her arm as she swayed on her feet, and guided her to a chair, “sit and just breathe,” he shot a reproving look at the mauve-clad woman. Leliana shrugged, but relented with a roll of her eyes.

“Firstly, I can tell you that the Inquisitor and party are expected to return any day now. They have been delayed but the last outpost report arrived this morning confirming their arrival.” She paused, clearly not telling everything.

“Spit it out Leliana,” Varric growled, still patting Rita’s shoulder.

She glared at the dwarf before reluctantly continuing, she stepped up to place a hand on the trembling Rita’s shoulder, “The Commander has fallen ill. The reports say the Shrine was overrun by red lyrium. When he fled, Sampson set the temple ablaze. Cullen….” Her eyes softened in rare sympathy and perhaps even concern, “Amrita, Cullen is unconscious. He’s been poisoned by the red lyrium, they’ve been unable to wake him.”


	18. Fading

 He was walking, but he didn’t know where to, only that he needed to keep going. He wasn’t where he was meant to be. The landscape kept shifting, morphing between vaguely familiar shapes in the swirling mists the obscured his way. Dark shapes twisted up out of the mercury pools at the edge of his vision, sinuous and sinister, only to melt back into nothing when he looked at them. Every step ratcheted Cullen’s fear another notch, but he couldn’t stop, he had to keep going, he had to find what he was looking for- whatever that was.

**

The crowd in the courtyard swarmed around the Inquisitors returning party, welcoming their Herald home, but Rita couldn’t care. She edged her way around the thronging mass to the gate. When the cart rolled across the bridge she spotted Dorian sitting slumped and tired in the back, dark circles evident of the strain he was under.

Leliana had been informed that when the Inquisitor returned to camp and realised Cullen was missing they’d sent out every able bodied soldier and scout to find him. It wasn’t until the sky began to lighten with the approaching dawn that the cry had gone up, a lone horse carrying his unconscious burden wandered into the camp. Mighty had brought him home.

Near to death the healers had worked to try to purge his system of the toxins, though they were able to drain almost every drop of lyrium from his body he still would not awaken and his vitals continued to wane. In a desperate attempt to preserve him for the trip home, Dorian had worked to modify his necromancer magics to suspend Cullen’s life until they could get back to the keep and the most skilled and specialised mages they had at their disposal.

So when Rita spotted the cart and flung herself up into the back what she saw ripped the breath straight from her lungs- dead. He looked dead. Skin waxy and grey, features utterly still, and only the barest movement of his chest as he took each shallow and long separated breath. The sight hit her in the gut and it was all she could do not to retch up the bile churning through her stomach.

“He lives,” Dorian’s voice was thin but sure, “if only just. There was no other way to get him home, we hope that Solas may have a solution. I did the best that I could, I’m no healer, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he reached a weary hand to pat her shoulder before disembarking, his whole body looked as though it were being pulled to the ground by gravity itself, beyond all endurance and yet he’d still attempted to offer her comfort and commiseration. She’d have to find a way to thank him, but for now her attention was drawn back to Cullen’s still, cold form, and she could focus on nothing else.

**

They had set up a sick room for Cullen in Solas’ rotunda. It had been determined that though his body was fully healed, the reason he would no wake was in his mind. While Master Pavus’ seal kept him tethered between life and death, it wouldn’t sustain him forever. Solas had informed them that he’d seen similar effects in others, where the spirit had fled the flesh. If they couldn’t bring Cullen back to himself soon, nothing could keep him from slipping into the vale- the body cannot long endure without the spirit.

Rita had followed when Bull lifted the boneless body of the Commander and carried him into the makeshift ward, both the former Grand Enchanter Fiona, and the terrifying Madame de Fer he tried to usher her from the room but at a word from the Inquisitor she’d settled herself by his head, cold hand clasped in hers, and they’d let her be.

Solas was preparing himself to enter the fade and see if he could determine what was keeping Cullen comatose. Only herself, and one of the other mages remained in the room throughout the long hours he was repose.

The double moons were well risen when Solas suddenly sucked in a loud breath and sat upright on his divan, startling the dozing Enchanter behind his desk. Rita had slipped into an exhausted but restless sleep slumped across Cullen’s shoulder, his hand still tightly anchored in her own, but she woke with a start the moment the slender elfs fingers brushed her arm.

“Miss Rita, please, come and sit,” the soft-spoken elf hauled the woman to her feet and placed her on the couch, pressing a hot mug of tea into her stiff hands. The shook a little as she wrapped them around the warm cup and sipped, offering a grateful thank you to the man.

“It won’t do to have him awake to find you in poor health, we would never hear the end of it,” he gave a small smile, teasing in his own quiet way.

“Is he going to wake soon?” she couldn’t keep the raw hope from either her voice or her eyes.

Solas sighed, rubbing long elegant fingers of one hand across his forehead in consternation, “the Commander has ever been a stubborn man, I fear this is largely the cause of his current state of stasis. Though it may also be the very reason he’s survived so many of his trials thus far.”

“He, did you find him, speak with him?… Does he not _want_ to wake?”

“It’s not so simple I’m afraid. I assume you know somewhat of his past?” she nodded, “then you would know that in order to keep his own personal demons at bay he must constantly be on guard against being led astray. When dreaming we enter the higher levels of the fade, it’s easier there to determine what is real and what is not, because here, we’re still not that far below the surface of reality.”

Rita could only nod, she didn’t understand the intricacies of the fade or of what mages must start to learn from the moment they entered a circle, but she could see he was trying to help her to understand and she gave him her undivided attention.

“Through his experiences however, Cullen has delved much deeper into the fade than most non-mages ever do. This time, it seems his spirit has fled so deep, the Commander is no longer able to determine the real from the unreal. I did find him, but he did not believe that I was who I said. In his efforts to survive he has cocooned himself deep in his subconscious. He is effectively trapped in the fade, in a cage of his own making, and I fear I cannot bring him back.”

Her mouth went dry and she felt the back of her eyes prickly with heat. She opened her mouth to speak but the tall elf held up one hand, forestalling her questions.

“I said that _I_ could not bring him out, at least, not alone. He does not trust me that I am not a demon. I would like to try again, with your help, Miss Rita.”

“How… I’m not a mage but, what can I do, I’ll do anything…”

“It’s nothing so dramatic as that,” he assured her with a small smile, “Commander Cullen is seeking something, he knows he is somewhere he is not meant to be, but he doesn’t know what he is looking for. He is driven only by the need to keep looking. I believe he may be searching for you. I would like to try again, and I would have you sing to him. My hope is that he will hear and follow you back to his body.”

“And… you think this will work? Of course I’ll sing, if it will help. What if it isn’t enough? It’s just singing, he doesn’t even know the music from my world, if he dies because of my voice, if it’s not enough…”

“Have faith. Have faith in your Commander, and faith in yourself. And we shall try again.” he rested a brief touch on her shoulder before standing and moving over to the small elf woman at his desk. After a low exchange she hurried off up the stairs to the spire and Solas returned to the couch to wait in silence with the still-pale and trembling woman.

“I hear you have need of my services,” Dorian entered, looking somewhat refreshed from his long and arduous trek back to Skyhold.

“Master Pavus, yes,” Solas rose and offered his seat to the Tevene mage, “I wish to know a little more about the magic you used to suspend the Commanders life,”

As the two mages talked Rita stared unseeing into her mug of cooling tea lost in thought, it wasn’t until a dark hand intercepted her vision to take it from her that she jolted back to the present.

“Are you ready my dear?” he asked kindly, helping her to her feet with a supportive hand on her elbow. Bull was again holding Cullen in his massive arms as Solas and Fiona carried the cot through the great hall and towards the dais.

As the worked to reposition him on the stretcher by the grand piano, Rita was escorted to the bench seat to take her place. When all was readied, both Cullen’s cot and Solas’ couch now upon the platform and Rita before the piano she took one last lingering look of her lover before turning to the keys and taking one deep steadying breath.

 _They say that home is where the heart is_  
_So what am I to do?_  
_Won't you teach me how to trust this_  
_'Cause I gave my heart to you_  
  
_They say that less is more_  
_But more is more_  
  
_Promise we won't break_  
_And you will keep me safe_  
_And I'll be brave_  
_I won't be afraid_  
_And you will keep me safe_  
_And I'll be brave_  
  
_Be brave_  
_Be brave_  
  
_It's true that nothing lasts forever_  
_In time, all things will fade_  
_But I can't think anything better_  
_Than to choose you every day_  
  
_They say that less is more_  
_But more is more_  
_And together we can find our way to shore_  
  
_Promise we won't break_  
_And you will keep me safe_  
_And I'll be brave_  
_I won't be afraid_  
_And you will keep me safe_  
_And I'll be brave_  
  
_With your hand in my hand_  
_My hand in yours_  
_With your hand in my hand_  
_We'll find our way to shore_  
  
_Promise we won't break_  
_And you will keep me safe_  
_And I'll be brave_  
_I won't be afraid_  
_And you will keep me safe_  
_And I'll be brave_  
  
_Be brave_  
_Be brave_


	19. Fate

“Commander, I implore you, can you not hear her song? Do you not care to return to your Lady?”

“I care, creature! The depth of my regard for her goes far beyond your paltry understanding of the word,” Cullen spat at the Solas-Demon, then added almost to himself, “I care, more than even she knows.”

“Then you must listen, your time here is running short, if you do not return to your body soon you will die.”

“Why should I listen to you, demon? I feel strong, the longer I walk the better I feel. I will make my way back to her, though, I admit I wasn’t quite sure what it was I was searching for until you reminded me, so, thank you for that,” he said tersely. It was a demon but, well, manners were never misplaced.

“You feel better because you stretch the bonds to your body ever thinner. Your pain is lessening because you leave your damaged flesh further behind. Your ties to life grow more tenuous by the moment, soon it will be too late. I beg you, just listen, follow her voice, find your way back to yourself, or she will be the one to pay the price in sorrow.”

Cullen paused, he could hear _something,_ but it was too faint. He stopped, stilled himself and took a few long slow breaths, reaching for that quiet inside that he retreated to when his pain was at its worst. Then, eyes closed, ears straining, he could hear her. The voice he’d come to love. It floated on a non-existent wind, melodies he’d never heard before anywhere in Thedas. Music from another world.

**

"He won't come."

Rita startled at the sudden voice by her side.

"Cole. What do you mean?"

"The Commander. He doesn't believe. He follows his thoughts, but they lead him further from his Heart. Time  grows short."

"Is he... is he dying?" Her words catch in her throat.

"Yes. But he doesn't know it. Then the song will be shattered, shards slicing, piercing. A song of sorrow." The boy stills, eyes distant as though his is listening to something only he can hear.

"Cole, can you.... can you take me to him? In the fade? Will you take me there so I can help him, please?"

**

As he stood, listening, the song became imperceptibly clearer, nearer, until he could make out the words as they danced from her tongue. A song that spoke directly to his heart-

 _I’ll keep you safe_  
_Try hard to concentrate_  
_Hold out your hand_  
_Can you feel the weight of it_  
_The whole world at your fingertips_

 _Don’t be, don’t be afraid_  
_Our mistakes they were bound to be made_  
_But I promise you I’ll keep you safe_

_You’ll be an architect_  
_So pull up your sleeves_  
_And build a new silhouette_  
_In the skylines up ahead_

 _Don’t be, don’t be afraid_  
_God knows that mistakes will be made_  
_But I promise you I’ll keep you safe_

_I’ll keep you safe_

_And darkness will be rewritten_  
_Into a work of fiction, you’ll see_  
_As you pull on every ribbon_  
_You’ll find every secret it keeps_

 _The sound of the branches breaking under your feet_  
_The smell of the falling and burning leaves_  
_The bitterness of winter or the sweetness of spring_  
_You are an artist_  
_And your heart is your masterpiece_

_And I’ll keep it safe_

 As the words washed over him Cullen felt a shift in the world around him, a subtle change in the air. He felt grounded, the light floating feeling slowly leaving his limbs heavy as though flesh again. When he opened his eyes he was standing in a field, green grass swaying in the breeze, the sun bright and warm overhead. He startled at a soft wuffle by his elbow and spun to face the long chestnut nose of a horse, it’s large liquid eyes soft and trusting. An absent hand reached to stroke the animal, the feeling of each hair under his fingertips further solidifying the new landscape.

“Cullen.”

That voice, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, made his heart beat again. He could feel the heavy thud beneath his ribs and only realised then that it hadn’t been until she spoke.

Turning slowly, almost afraid to trust it, Cullen watched the woman he loved approach through the gently parting grass.

“Ami, my sweet Ami.”

“There you are,” her smile was radiant, “I’ve been looking for you. Did you hear me calling?”

“I… I heard but, it took me a little while to remember, I’m sorry my sweet, I seem to be a little confused but, I’m glad you are here,” he stepped forward to wrap his arms about her narrow shoulders, just the feel of her against his body again added another layer of reality for him to cling to.

“Where am I?” he asked, not bothering to hide his trepidation, “where are we? I was lost, I think I was looking for you but…”

“I know, but I found you, and everything is going to be alright.” Rita held him tight, as though she’d never release him again.

“You found me but, how do we get home, do you remember the way? I don’t…. I’m not quite sure where we are…” his mind was still a little foggy, his confusion trying to wash away his thoughts as he desperately tried to hold onto them.

“Darling, this is Earth,” she looked up into his eyes, worry evident, but for some reason though he knew he should be concerned, having her there with him, he wasn’t.

“Earth, your world? How?”

“She called to you, her heart to yours,” Cole appeared beside Solas, who was waiting passively a few yards away, “it echoed across the fade, so loud I couldn’t ignore it. Just the same as yours called to hers,” the landscape blurred and suddenly they were standing beneath rows of tall pine trees, a wide dirt pathway cutting through the middle.

Four heads swivelled at a sound, hoofbeats, slow and steady. From around a bend in the road a small figure rode atop a small sturdy horse. As it ambled closer, passing through a beam of sunlight, the rider was briefly illuminated. Rita gasped as she recognised herself, bow in hand, on the small brown mare she had been riding the day she landed in Thedas.

At the sudden movement, the little mare balked, spooking violently to the side. As Rita began to tumble sideways a green flash froze the scene in front of them. From within the tear emerged Cole.

The spectators could see the memory of Rita still falling slowly. Cullen knew the angle was bad, she’d been unprepared, unseated so suddenly there was no time for her to take steps to protect herself- she was going to land badly, the fall would break her neck.

The memory of Cole reached out beneath the tumbling woman and she settled delicately in the curve of his arms. He turned and stepped back through, cradling Rita against his chest. The rift snapped shut the moment they were out of sight, and time recoiled sharply back to speed. The riderless horse trotted a few steps before coming to a stop, clearly having recovered from the little scare it dropped its nose to graze, completely nonplussed.

“You. Cole, you brought me to Thedas?” Rita turned to face the spirit boy.

“Yes. You were calling, always calling, a melody and a harmony that fit nowhere else but together. I would have left you but you were going to die, and part of him would have died too, never knowing why he felt so empty. The song would be broken. He would have suffered, more. I wanted to help. I brought you to the same place so that you could follow the song to each other.”

“She would have died?” Cullen asked the boy, a flutter of fear in his chest.

“In her world, yes. So I helped. I helped you both. The song is complete now, the same song in both of you.”

“Cole, can you take us all home? Can you bring the Commander back now?” Solas interjected , conscious of time slipping away.

“Yes, if he will come. But we must hurry"

“Commander, will you come with us?” Solas asked.

“Cullen, please? I can’t lose you, please come back to me?” Rita took his hand and pressed his palm over her breast, he could feel her heartbeat, strong and real.

He turned to the mage and the spirit, wrapping one arm securely around her waist, and made his decision.

“Yes, Cole, take us home. I have something I wish to say to my sweetheart, and I’d very much like to be alive, and awake, to say it,” he smiled fondly down at the woman at his side, and in a flash was swallowed again in darkness.

**

The sounds of soft voices filtered through the foggy layer of sleep that still clung to Rita’s brain as she awoke. At her slight movement they broke off, and she heard the approach of measured footsteps while another set faded away.

“Ah, you’re awake. How do you feel?” Solas asked, keeping his tone hushed as he squatted down beside the low bed.

Rita tried to stretch, but found herself tightly tucked against a large warm body. Peeking over her shoulder she could see the golden blonde curls nuzzled into her neck and couldn’t help the bright smile that broke across her face.

“I feel, good, I think. Rested. How long was I out?’ she looked around, they were back in the elf’s painted rotunda, both bodies laid out on the narrow stretcher. From the muffled sounds filtering through the closed door to the great hall, it must have been a while.

“It is almost mid-meal, we emerged from the fade some time after midnight,” he said.

“I’m so sorry, I hope it wasn’t too much of an imposition,” she began but he waved her off with the flick of a hand.

“You needed the rest, both of you,” he indicated the sleeping Commander at her back, “He is yet to wake, but it’s a normal sleep, healthy. He may still need some time to recover but the proper rest will do him good." He paused, a questioning narrowing of his eyes before he continued, "That was a very dangerous thing that you did Miss Rita, entering the fade, going so deep with no training. Why? Why did you risk so much?”

“You really don’t know?” she asked softly, his genuine curiosity bringing a tiny curve of a smile to her lips.

“I confess, it never occurred to me to ask you because I did not believe that anyone would be willing to do such a thing.”

“I would have done that, and more. I’d have tried anything to bring him home, Solas, because I love him. I think I’ve always loved him. What we saw, my accident, Cole…. I think I loved him even then, and though we began on different worlds we somehow found each other. Solas, what wouldn’t you do for destiny?”

“I see.” He gave a small smile and stood. “Well, it’s very lucky that you did. Or, perhaps it was fate,” the smile widened. “I should let the Inquisitor know, she’d be very happy to hear that you are both safe.” He nodded once and left, closing the door to the hall quietly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realised I left out a small but critical piece of the story lol nice work! 
> 
> So now there's an explanation for how Rita ends up in the fade with Cullen... because duh!


	20. Say the Word

The fog of sleep lifted slowly. First, the soft sounds of someone moving around a large space, the scuff of a footstep, the dry crackle of parchment. Then sensations; a tingling in his limbs, a warm weight on his chest, the scent of vanilla. The last brought a smile to his lips. He cracked one eyelid, squinted against the yellow candlelight, and looked down onto the familiar dark tresses piled upon his shoulder. He lifted a heavy hand and gently stroked his fingers through the loose curls, feeling the silken strands slink over his skin. She began to stir, fingers scrunching  his shirt in childlike languor where they rested on his chest. A wide yawn broke off suddenly and she stiffened before whipping her head up to meet his eyes.

“Cullen!”

“Sweetheart,” he smiled down at her.

Rita scrambled up and flung her arms around his neck, with a deep rolling chuckle he wrapped her in a tight hug.

“You scared me half to death! Do you know how worried I was?” she said pulling back to look him in the eye, expression serious, “I’m very cross with you.”

“I’m sorry darling,” he soothed, touching tender fingertips to her face.

Her eyes shone wetly, “You were gone so long, and you wouldn’t wake. You were dying Cullen, I watched you fading away,” a lone tear trailed down her cheek.

Cullen sat up and pulled her tightly to his chest, stricken by the pain evident in her face and her voice, “I’m here now, I would never willingly leave you, Ami, my sweet girl.” He pressed his forehead to the crown of her head as he held her. The tiny tremors rippling through her shoulders and the muffled sniffles wrenched at his heart.

He stroked her hair and her back until she stilled, her weight curled into his chest. In the moment Cullen felt his whole being swell with affection and something more. In his wanderings in the fade, during every step he took since leaving Skyhold, one thing kept him going.

“I love you.”

Amrita shot up at his soft voice, tear-reddened eyes wide as they locked to his own. It only made the words feel more true, and he felt an uncontrollable desire to say them over and over again.

“I love you, Ami. I am deeply, irrevocably in love with you,” he cradled her face in his large palms, his complete focus upon the woman his heart sang for, “I had planned to return from Dumat and do something romantic for you, I wanted it to be perfect when I told you. But now is perfect, and every moment before now since I first carried you from that tavern, from our first kiss, that night, when I knew _all_ of you, and then I knew that I loved you- it would have been the perfect time. Because Ami, my love, _you_ are the thing I’ve been searching for my whole life, and every moment with you is perfect.”    

New tears swelled in her deep brown eyes that sparkled with wonder and joy as he laid himself out bare before her. She reached to lay a small palm on his cheek, sending shock waves of pure longing through him, but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming surge of emotion that rose up to swallow him when she parted those full, pink lips and spoke breathlessly-

“Oh Cullen, I love you too! I love you so much I… I _love you,_ more than anything!”

Their mouths crashed together in a passionate and heated kiss. With a hunger borne of love and desire, the anguish of being parted and the sweetness of reunion, they devoured each other. Cullen couldn’t hold her close enough, tight enough, his arms bulged and trembled with the effort of not crushing her, while fine, deft fingers twined in his sleep-tussled curls and pulled him ever nearer.

When finally they separated they were both panting and flushed, brown and honey eyes shone alike, fierce in their love for one another.

The moment broken when a loud protesting grumble erupted from Cullen’s abdomen, after a second of surprised shock they both laughed.

“It seems that I’ve neglected my stomach long enough,” he smiled fondly as his love, brushing a lock of dark ringlets behind her ear, then frowned at a curious thought, “how long _has_ it been since last I ate?”

Rita’s expression fell a little, concern and sympathy colouring the bright joy of their confessions, “It’s been over three weeks since you fell ill, we’ve been maintaining your body with rejuvenation and cleansing spells, the healers worked around the clock tending to you, and Dorian put a seal on you to kind of suspend you, the stasis slowing your body processes down to delay,” her voice cracked a little, she swallowed hard before continuing,” to delay starvation, delay death. I’m not surprised you’re hungry,” she tried to smile at the little joke.

“I have a lot of people to thank for bringing me back to you, not the least of whom I fear I was very ungracious towards in the fade,” Cullen heaved his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.

“Careful love, you’re still very weak, it will take a little time for you to recover fully.”

He could only smile at her gentle fretting, pleased that he was alive for her to be able to do so. Knowing that they loved each other, he shuddered inwardly to think what might have happened to her if he’d died, and he knew that from now, his every waking thought would be of her, and how he make certain he would always be able to stay with her.

“Will you help me then, my sweet? If I’ve been out for that long I think a hot bath, some fresh clothing, and some breakfast might be in order,” he gently took her hand in his and let her pull him to his feet. He could feel the shaking of weakened muscles in his legs as they took his weight, but he felt steady enough. Allowing himself to lean a little on the slender shoulders of his sweetheart they made their way from the rotunda towards his tower, _their_ tower. Towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one this week... but special!


	21. A Familiar Face

In the weeks following Cullen’s near death, Rita applied studious attention to his care and recovery- beginning with moving her into the tower at his request. Before long he had regained much of his former bulk and strength, but it was a gradual process which wore on his patience, and he found himself snapping at his underlings and sometimes even her. But surely as he became more and more able his temper was less and less quick to flare.

He slept more regularly, still not more than his usual five hours or so a night, but it was consistent and dreamless. At first he put his rapidly inclining health down to his lovers tender care, but when his illnesses and pains failed to return as expected, coupled with his now dreamless and restful sleep, Cullen had a niggling feeling there was more going on.

Making his way across the bridge and through the rotunda, he offered a quick gesture of greeting to the elf before heading up to the library. He found the Tevene mage as he expected, curled up on an ornately carved, high-backed armchair with a large tome in his hands.

Dorian looked up at his approach and set the book aside, “Ah, Commander. You’re looking well, almost recovered from your adventure in the fade I see.” He sat up and invited Cullen to take the chair across from him.

“Yes, with no small thanks to yourself,’ Cullen settled in the offered seat, “and it’s just Cullen, Dorian. When you save a man’s life there’s a certain level of intimacy that exceeds the need for titles don’t you think?” he grinned crookedly.

“As you say, Cullen. Was there something I could help you with?”

“Yes actually, if you have a moment?”

“Please, impose away, I’d welcome the distraction from that ghastly pile of drivel,” he flicked a disdainful hand at the volume he’d been reading.       

“I had some questions, about what happened while I was… incapacitated.”

Dorian nodded for him to continue, rearranging himself to give Cullen his full attention he draped one ankle loosely over a knee and steeped his fingers in his lap.

Cullen took a moment to gather his thoughts, “Since waking, I have been anticipating certain… difficulties, with my health, to return. By the accounts it seems I underwent extensive healing, at first I put the respite from my ailments down to that. But so far, nothing.”

“And there’s something wrong with feeling _well?_ Do you miss suffering through every moment of the day so much?” Dorian said, amused.

Cullen quirked a lip, “Not at all, I feel better than I have in many years. My concern is that I’ll get too used to it, and when it returns I’ll be the worse for having had this period of relief.”

“What makes you so sure it will return?”

“Dorian,” Cullen intoned, “we’re both of us realists…when have you ever known things to eventuate the most positive outcomes? It’s better to plan for the worst, and if the best occurs it’s a happy surprise. Suffice to say I’ve yet to be surprised.”

“I concede to your _droll_ but impervious logic,” Dorian twisted a corner of his moustache, a wry smirk underlying, “so, what is it you need from me?”

Cullen frowned, considering the question carefully, “I suppose, I’d like for you to see what exactly was done to me, what damage or changes, anything that might give me an idea of what to expect, if it’s at all possible,” he paused, eyes  bruising with something more than concern for himself, “Please Dorian, I need to know. I’ve become used to the idea that my life will be short,  but she…Things have changed. If I’m to die soon, I shall have to make preparations, decisions….”

He could see Dorian wanted to protest, and was grateful when he only nodded in acknowledgement.

“I’ll do what I can, Cullen. Give me some time to do a little research, and we shall see.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said quietly but with feeling, before taking his leave.

So lost in thought Cullen let his feet take him through the hall to his next war table meeting. Only once his back was leaned against the closed door did he feel like he could breath, before the air instantly evaporated from his lungs again…. yes, decisions.

**

The door swung back with more force that Rita intended and slammed against the stone wall startling the occupant waiting within.

“Rylen!” she exclaimed, struggling to balance the armload of laundry she was carrying.

“Rita, lass! Here, let me help you with that,” Rylan reached her in a few quick, ground-covering strides in time to stabilise the tower of linens and clothing that threatened to topple to the ground.

“Thank you, let me just set this down,” Rita deposited the pile on the landing on the stairs to the loft before greeting her former lover in a warm hug, “How have you been? I didn’t know you were headed back to Skyhold.”

“Well enough lass, well enough, glad to be out of that damned desert, I’ve sand in places sand aught never to be! But look at you,” he held one hand above her head, and she twirled slowly, laughing, “you’re looking so well. Happy.”

“I am, happier than I ever thought possible,” she smiled.

“So I see,” he tipped his chin towards the basket of washing she’d been carrying, ”are you the Commander's maid now or…?”

Rita blushed prettily, “Ah, yes, and no. We... live together now,”

Rylen’s eyes brightened, genuinely happy for her, “Good for you Rita, is it everything you wished for? Is he good to you?”

“More. So much more, Ry. He is wonderful.”

“I see how it is. You’re in deep my girl,” he chuckled.

“So it would seem,” she smiled fondly off into the ether, before brining herself back to the present, “and you, what of your “bonny lass?” she asked, in her best Starkhaven accent.

Rylen’s face fell a little, “Ah, not as well as I’d hoped. I suppose it could be considered fair turnabout. After all, how many young maids have I warmed a bed with, only to cut them loose as their affections grew beyond the boundaries of the bedroom,” he snorted in self-derision. “This time it was I that was cut loose. It was not to be lass, but never mind,”

“I’m so sorry Ry, I had hoped you’d found happiness as I did. I could tell you you’re a good, sweet man and how it’s her loss, that she's daft for not having seen you for what you are and there will be someone better out there waiting for you…. but I know that’s not what you need.”

“Oh, and what is it that I need?”

“A drink! Come, sit with me and we’ll help ourselves to some of the bosses good stuff,” she winked and hooked her arm into the big soldiers elbow. Depositing him in a chair before the imposing desk where Cullen spent the majority of his waking hours, she moved to the bookshelf and reached behind some weighty tomes on military tactics and modern warfare to withdraw a dark bottle of aged Tevinter whiskey.

Rylen gave an appreciative hum as she uncorked the bottle and poured them both two fingers into a pair of simple earthenware tea cups. She handed one to the grinning Templar and perched herself on a corner of the desk, taking a sip of her own.

“So, tell me what’s happened to you since we last saw each other….”

**    

Cullen returned from a late war room meeting, after a long day of touring the barracks and inspecting the crop of fresh soldiers that had completed the latest intake of recruit training. Because of this he’d missed his usual meal with his sweetheart and was eager to get home to her.

Pausing before the door to his tower, he could hear voices and… music? Muffled by the heavy oak slab it was hard to make out.

Silently he pushed the door open to find his girl dancing with his lieutenant, and her music box playing from his desk. She sang along as she swayed rhythmically side to side, one hand on Rylen’s arm and the other patting his back in time with the song-

 

_I’m falling in love with someone_

_Who’s not falling in love with me_

_How can I escape this future_

_That holds nothing but misery_

_I’m giving my all to someone_

_Who’s not giving her all to me_

_If she only knew what she’s doing to me_

_She would set my poor heart free_

_I know there’s been many before me_

_Who had a one sided-love_

_But goodness knows a poor boy like me_

_Needs some help from above_

_So Lord, I’m falling in love with someone_

_Who’s not falling in love with me_

_If she only cared just the very least bit_

_I’d be happy as a boy could be_

_Lord, I’d be happy as a boy could be._

 

He cocked one heel over the other, and folding his arms across his chest he leaned against the door jamb and watched. Rita was framed in the big soldiers arms, but she kept a space between their swaying bodies, and Rylen’s hands were resting respectfully high up on her waist. As they turned in a slow circle Rita’s eye landed on him and the smile that lit up her face caused his pulse to jump, as it did every time. Without breaking stride she continued the slow side to side movement, turning until her back was towards him when the music ended with a flourish.

Rylen was facing directly towards Cullen as the song died and he looked up, immediately grinning at his Commander he stepped away and bowed to his dance partner,  before reaching out to clasps Cullen’s wrist in a firm shake.

“I knew you weren’t stupid!” he greeted louder than necessary, clearly a little tipsy if the dark bottle on his desk were any indication of their evenings activities.

“Pardon?” Cullen stepped fully into the office, closing the door behind him. Rita made her way to his side and handed him a cup she’d poured from his good whiskey, which he took gratefully with an affectionate squeeze of his free arm around her, tucking her in close to his side.

“She is a remarkable woman your Rita, took you long enough to see it though, much to her lament.”

“Rylen!” she blushed.

“Come now, you always had eyes for him, I knew that. I’m so very happy for you both,” he smiled affectionately if a little unfocussed, "Oh, hey! To Cullen and Amrita, and the bosses good, hard liquor!" Rylen raised his mug in an unsteady toast to his friends before knocking it back in one gulp.

This was not what Cullen had been expecting upon returning home, but it was shaping up to be a fairly interesting evening if nothing else.

**

Much later as they settled into their large and comfortable bed, Rylen's soft snores from his bedroll below drifting up to them in the quiet dark of their room, Cullen finally asked the question she’d been expecting all evening. But she was prepared.

“So, you and Rylen?” he opened with exaggerated casualness.

“Yes, we have history,” Rita began cautiously, she wouldn’t shy from his questions, or lie, but answered earnestly and hoped it was enough, “but it was before you and I, and Cullen I would never…. we are just friends. He was sad and I was offering support. He’s like a big brother now, in a way, but that’s all. It’s nice to know I have someone to confide in, that will always have my back, like family.”

“I understand, I know you don’t speak of it much, Earth, the people you left there. If you have found some few trusted confidantes here besides myself, I am glad,“ he shrugged as he wrapped an arm about her shoulders and planted a kiss atop her hair, “Who am I to deny you that small peace.”

“That’s it? You’ll just take my word for it?” she replied, surprised.

‘Of course, should I not?”

“No! Yes! I mean, it’s just, most people in my experience would be, I don’t know, sceptical. Jealous. Jealousy leads to misunderstandings, leads to unnecessary drama, everyone ends up hurt….you know how it goes.”

“Well, as the man said, I am not stupid, “ he smirked, lifting her chin with a finger he locked eyes with her, “I knew you were with someone before I met you, you said as much to me that night at the tavern. And if it weren’t for Rylen leaving, you wouldn’t have been drinking and dancing on table tops, and I wouldn't have been both scandalised and smitten," he grinned, a quick flash of reassurance, "So, if it had to be someone, I suppose I’m glad it was someone decent. He is a good man. Perhaps the better man…”

““Better” is subjective. He’s a good man, and a dear friend, a companion when I needed one, but he is not you, and you,” Rita leaned up to kiss him, a chaste peck, “are perfect.”

“Maker, my sweet Ami, where would I be without you?” Cullen chuckled.

 “Probably still behind your desk, a pounding headache behind your perpetual scowl, and your uneaten dinner gone cold, again.”

“You’re probably right. Luckily my life changed for the better when you swept in, like a blessing from the lips of Andraste herself-  chaotic and at times exasperating, but a blessing none the less,” he teased.

“Hey!”

“I jest! I only jest, my sweet,” Cullen jumped at the tiny indignant finger that jabbed between his ribs, and sighed, “I am a lucky man.”

“Only as lucky as I am.”

“I adore you,” his amber eyes were soft, awed, as he lowered his lips to hers.

Rita leaned into his with a warm smile, “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned from holidays! That means regular updates again, though this is just a short one, mostly fluff, to get back into the swing :)
> 
> edit * ugh! it helps if I post the whole chapter lol


	22. A Surprise Spectator and an Unexpected Request

In the lead up to the Inquisitions departure to the Arbor Wilds Rita had watched Cullen become more and more stressed; sleeping less, frowning more, and while he didn’t complaint openly she could see the toll of his responsibilities weighing heavily. Though surprisingly, since their return from the fade none of his previous difficulties with his health had resurfaced. He still had occasional nightmares, they were worse when he let himself get too run down, but overall he seemed better from when they first met. Still, she kept a surreptitious eye for any signs of relapse.

Watching him now she noticed he was a little slower on his feet, shoulders a little less straight and he was pale. Rita turned her attention back to the training yard where she was meant to be overseeing drills between Cullen’s foot soldiers and her mounted archers.

They were trying to formulate the best ways to integrate the two for maximum effect. They’d been at it sine after mid-meal and by the looks they could use a rest also, the sun was getting low and there was the definite chill of impending dusk in the air. Pushing her idle thoughts aside she waited for a break in the exercise and approached him.

“Love, it’s getting late, should we call it a day?”

He only grunted, still absorbed in observing the training.

“You’re looking a little pale, do you have a headache?” she tried again to get his attention.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

She frowned deeply at the glib response, he hadn’t taken his eyes off the soldiers while giving the rote response, still keenly focussed forward. After a moment he became aware of the loaded silence and finally turned to face her with confused frown.

“I’ve worked through worse..”

“Just because you can that doesn’t mean you should. Please, just take a moment, hydrate. It’s just as important that you’re taking care of yourself as taking care of them.”

“There is no arguing with you, is there,” it wasn’t a question.

“None,” she smiled brightly, wholly unapologetic.

Relenting, Cullen took her hand and told the team to wrap it up before making their way across the yard towards their tower.

 The office was shrouded in that blue tinged dimness of early evening,  Rita detached herself and lit the two free-standing candelabras, poured them both some water from a pitcher and handed one off as he took his chair behind the desk. With a grateful groan he took a sip while she busied herself with the lacing of his boots.

When she was sure he was comfortable she set about their evening routine.

They ate supper at his desk so he could keep working, and then she was content to curl into an armchair with a book and keep him company.

It was well into the evening when sat back in his chair with a sigh, stretching and passing a weary hand over his strained and tired eyes.

“You’ve been pushing yourself hard these last few weeks love, I worry for you," she gently chided.

“I feel fine, compared to how I was a little fatigue and a headache barely warrants any consideration.”

“I know but, after what happened, is it wise to run yourself down especially when there’s no real need for it? Not yet anyway.”

“I can’t sit back and relax while we’re preparing a full scale assault, Amrita. Now is exactly the time to be pushing harder.” He frowned but his tone was even. They disagreed from time to time like any couple, but neither of them were prone to harsh tones or heated outbursts and weren’t inclined to try to hurt or offend each other in a fit of pique. Their discussions always remained level headed and respectful, even when they frustrated each other.

 “It’s troubling you, I can see the effect this is all having on you. But you are doing everything you can; your troops are well trained, every resource is used to its fullest potential, and every day there are more and more people that benefit, that have their suffering eased and hopes lifted, that _survive_ because of the work you and the Inquisition do here.”

“I know you’re right, but I can’t help but feel like there’s always more I can do. If one more life could have been spared because I spent less time sleeping and more training, or working…. If I missed something in that half hour when I wasn’t fully focussed… I’ve lost enough already, I need to do all I can to make Skyhold secure and ready our forces, because it doesn’t bare thinking what would happen to Thedas – to you- if I fail and Corypheus wins.”

“Cullen, it’s not all on your shoulders. If we lose this battle to Corypheus- and that’s a big _IF –_ there will be others. But more importantly, _we_ – the whole of the Inquisition- will recover, regroup, and we will endure. You put too much pressure on yourself, darling, no-one expects you to be perfect except you.”

She could see her words weren’t going to change his mind, when Cullen fixated on something he really dug in. There was so much to unwrap there, she knew, but that was something to work on later, over _years_ even.

Sighing Amrita took his hand and led him to the cold and empty Great hall. At this late hour the room was dimly lit by only a few low burning torches by the main entrances, their lames guttering at the movement in the air of their passing causing them to flicker and dance before resettling to a steady glow.

She sat him on the end of the piano bench with a gentle hand on his shoulder before taking her seat beside him. It was how they communicated, since even before they’d met if Cole was to be believed.

Cullen was doubting himself, but more than that he'd begun to doubt his faith, and as highly as he valued the Maker she knew how dangerous it would be to send him into battle believing he'd been abandoned by his God.

More than words, Rita conveyed her understanding, her feelings, and comfort through song and Cullen felt it deep in his being when she spoke to him through her music. This time was no different -

 _Said I loved you without hesitation_  
_So easy for you to break my foolish heart_  
_Now I wonder if you ever speak my name_  
_Will I always be defined by my mistakes?_

 _In the eyes of a saint I'm a stranger_  
_We're all trying to find a way_  
_At the death of every darkness there's a morning_  
_Though we all try_  
_We all try_  
_We're all one step from grace_

 _I made myself believe_  
_There was no fight left in me_  
_But redemption doesn't fall down at your feet_  
_In the half light_  
_We raised a hand to my defeat_  
_And I watched the world fall_  
_And I rebuilt it piece by piece_

 _In the eyes of a saint I'm a stranger_  
_We're all trying to find a way_  
_At the death of every darkness there's a morning_  
_Though we all try_  
_We all try_  
_We're all one step from grace_

 _I wonder why we give up on love_  
_When it's always within reach_  
_You and I, we suffered this enough_  
_We all try_  
_We all try_  
_We're all one step from grace_

 _In the eyes of a saint I'm a stranger_  
_We're all trying to find a way_  
_At the death of every darkness there's a morning_  
_Though we all try_  
_We all try_  
_We're all one step from grace_

_**_

Unnoticed by the pair sitting in contement before the piano a figure watches from the deep shadows of a recessed doorway. The Inquisitors mind churning with the words of the otherworldly song, and an idea began to form in the back of her mind.

She gave her Commander and his sweetheart another moment of peace while the inspiration solidified into something she could more easily put into words before clearing her throat and stepping away from the wall to notify them of her presence.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen jumped to his feet, but sat again as she indicated with one raised palm.

“Please, I didn’t meant to disturb you but I often like to listen on those nights Miss Amrita sneaks in to play,” she smiled gently at Rita’s bashful blush.

“I hope I don’t wake you, Inquisitor. I thought the walls would contain the noise…”

“You don’t, and they do. But I don’t always sleep well and when I get the opportunity I like to hear your Earth music. It is…. unusual, but often oddly poignant.”

“Thank you, your…. Grace?” she curled a nervous hand into Cullen’s shirt even as she leaned closer into his side.

Evelyn laughed a light tinkling sound in the empty grand hall, “Evelyn is fine, in private. I had something that I wished to put to you however, you’ve inspired me.”

“I’m happy to help however I can, of course,” she said.

“Support for the Inquisition has made great strides since it began, but as with anything the longer this war drags on interest tends to plateau. We are at the point where we’re readying to make a decisive- and hopefully final-  strike against Corypheus, and neutralise his threat once and for all. In the face of that we need our forces, indeed all of our people to be going into this with true pride and determination in their hearts. We can’t send them against the enemy fatigued and full of doubts.”

Evelyn paused to collect her thoughts before fixing Amrita with a calm but heavy gaze, “So, I wish to bolster our people, fortify them for the coming battle. I know that we will lose people, that I can’t deny the cost we must pay for peace but if I can prepare them, give them a little more- if it saves even one more life it will be worth it.”

“I…” Rita swallowed hard, “I’m not sure how I can help. I know some of my things from Earth seem like magic but I promise you it’s just science! I wish I had some all-powerful weapon or spell that could win this without any deaths but…. I’m so sorry I have nothing.”

Evelyn’s face shifted, warming from her pensive mask as she regarded the smaller woman, “What I need from you is not nothing, but something no-one else can offer, and _I believe_ that your special kind of magic is exactly what we need right now. Miss Amrita, I need your music.”

Rita’s eyes blew wide in bewilderment, her mouth fell open and her small hand clenched unthinking into a fist, twisting in Cullen’s shirt where she clung to him, “I’m not sure how that will help, at all! Of course I’m willing to try but….” she faded off. Cullen rubbed a reassuring hand in small circles on back but said nothing.

“Our ambassador is planning a final gathering before we march to the Arbor Wilds in the hopes of securing further funding and support from the nobles. Many of whom are Orlesian and as we’ve seen, the outcome of one well-attended party can garner a great deal of influence. I’d like for you to perform, if you would?” she asked earnestly, “I think it would really benefit our cause with them if we can provide something they’ve never seen before. Will you do it?”

“She does have a point, sweetling,” Cullen said, gently encouraging, “at this stage anything that could help the army would be invaluable. Could you take a few days to think about it?”

Rita looked up into those warm honeyed depths and felt her courage stir. What if a simple song was enough for him? What if at the crucial moment he remembered her music and it gave him the strength to prevail? It wasn’t unheard of, music had been used to inspire all through the ages, if she could give him any kind of edge to ensure he came back to her, could she really say no?

Her lips pursed into a thin line of resolve- she knew the answer, and she didn’t need days to think about it. Turning back to the Inquisitor Amrita stepped away from Cullen’s side.

“I would be happy to, Inquisitor. Evelyn. I'll give them something they’ve never seen. I have _one_ question though…..” she asked, a small mischievous curl to her lips.

The taller woman narrowed her eyes in suspicion but Rita could see the moment her curiosity got the best of her, “Alright, I’ll bite.”

Rita’s smile burst in full brightness, “tell me Evelyn, can you sing?”

**

Evelyn stayed only a short while before retiring again to her chambers. Cullen had resumed his seat on the piano stool, and Rita nestled herself against his chest as she sat between his muscular thighs.

“That was unexpected,” she said after the Inquisitor made her exit.

“I know you’ll do something incredible. It’s a very good idea, I don’t know why it hadn’t come up earlier.”

“I mean, I’ve never done anything this… _big_ before. I’ve played in a band but, directing one? Playing in front of strangers…. and the song itself, it needs to be just right,” she fretted.

Cullen squeezed and dropped a quick kiss to her hair, “I have every confidence in you.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” she sighed, to which he only chuckled.

“I’m not quite ready to retire yet, would you play one more for me love?”

“What sort of song did you have in mind?”

Cullen hummed against the back of her head, “Something that will give me sweet dreams.”

Knowing how stressed he was these days, and how long he suffered with nightmares Rita placed her hands back over the ivory keys and began-

 _You're the bravest of hearts, you're the strongest of souls_  
_You're my light in the dark, you're the place I call home_  
_You can say it's all right, but I know that you're breaking up inside_  
_I see it in your eyes_  
_Even you face the night afraid and alone_  
_That's why I'll be there_  
  
_When the storm rises up, when the shadows descend_  
_Every beat of my heart, every day without end_  
_Every second I live, that's the promise I make_  
_Baby, that's what I'll give, if that's what it takes_  
_If that's what it takes_  
  
_You can sleep in my arms, you don't have to explain_  
_When your heart's crying out, baby, whisper my name_  
_'Cause I've reached out for you when the thunder is crashing up above_  
_You've given me your love_  
_When you smile like the sun that shines through the pain_  
_That's why I'll be there_  
  
_When the storm rises up, when the shadows descend_  
_Every beat of my heart, every day without end_  
_I will stand like a rock, I will bend till I break_  
_Till there's no more to give, if that's what it takes_  
_I will risk everything, I will fight, I will bleed_  
_I will lay down my life, if that's what you need_  
_Every second I live, that's the promise I make_  
_Baby, that's what I'll give, if that's what it takes_  
  
_Through the wind and the rain, through the smoke and the fire_  
_When the fear rises up, when the wave's ever higher_  
_I will lay down my heart, my body, my soul_  
_I will hold on all night and never let go_  
_Every second I live, that's the promise I make_  
_Baby, that's what I'll give, if that's what it takes_  
  
_If that's what it takes_

The cavernous room fell silent, the high vaulted ceiling hidden in darkness where the few pillars of weak candlelight couldn’t penetrate hummed with the final fading notes of the song. Amrita rested her hands over Cullen’s where his strong arms criss-crossed her body to hold her tight against him, and her head lolled back on his shoulder, a soft cheek prickled by stubble sending a shiver down her spine.

Where their fingers touched they played idly, drawing slow swirls over roughened knuckles, and pressing palm to palm while sliding petit digits in and out between larger, thicker ones. Slow measured breaths tickled the bare skin of her neck beneath his chin. She was at perfect peace in his arms, and could quite happily live out her days right there on that stool in that embrace.

After a time she felt his shift a moment before he lowered his head and dropped a reverent kiss to her bared shoulder. He followed it up with several more along her collar and up the slender column of her neck. Upon reaching her jaw he released a hot sigh accompanied by a tight squeeze and whispered, “Maker, how I love you” as fervently as any prayer.

“Cullen,” she murmured, tipping back and lifting her chin she enticed him into a loving kiss. As they kissed, lost in the taste and heat of each other, she slid her fingers up the nape of his neck and pushed her nails against the grain of his hair. He responded by gently enveloping one pert breast in a large, warm palm, kneading the tender flesh. They both moaned and their kiss deepened further until breathless they had to part.

Bare inches apart deep brown eyes shone with pure love into bright and brilliant gold. Their chests heaved in synchronicity, hearts thundered behind their ribs. Amrita felt like her whole body wanted to fly apart with the sheer mass of her love for Cullen, as though her small shape were inadequate to contain it. She felt tumbled by it, like waves crashing over and over her, leaving her unable to catch her breath. Completely enraptured in the roiling emotions she gave voice to words before she’d even been aware they were on her lips; on a puff of air they fell from her mouth-

“Marry me”…


	23. Better to have Loved and Lost...

Cullen awoke into darkness perhaps only an hour or two after he’d finally found sleep, but felt instantly that he wasn’t alone. At some point in the earliest hours of the morning Rita had crept into their bed and she was now curled into a tight ball on the very edge of the mattress, her back towards him. He swallowed against the harsh pain in his throat at the sight of her, so small and vulnerable. He wanted to reach for her, to hold her, but he knew it wouldn’t be welcomed. Silently he rose and pulled on his leathers and a shirt, whether she heard him or not she didn’t stir and he didn’t wish to find out. Retrieving his boots Cullen made his way downstairs into the dark cold office to put them on, and then stepped out into the pre-dawn night to make his way to the one place he hoped to find some comfort.

Cullen knew he’d hurt her deeply, and it tore at him. The look of absolute devastation when he’d declined her proposal would never leave him. He replayed it over again for perhaps the thousandth time, the ache never lessening-

_“Marry me.”_

_Cullen gaped, mouth hanging open and eyes wide at the words. Speak! He knew he needed to speak, he watched as she blinked as though just as shocked at her own words as he was. But the moments in which he should have been responding stretch on in silence- too long now- and shock turned to hope which gave way to heartbreaking sorrow. Speak man!_

_“I…. Ami, my love, I’m …. I’m so sorry ….. I can’t…. I”_

_She stood abruptly and stepped out of his hold, “I’m sorry, please just, pretend I didn’t say anything,” she smiled bravely but he could see the mist building in her eyes, threatening to spill._

_“No, sweetheart, please wait! I don’t mean…”_

_“No,” she cut him off, backing away, “it’s fine, honestly. We’re… we’re fine, I don’t know what I was thinking I..” her lips clamped shut, unable to continue as two wet tracks coursed their way down her paled cheeks. She turned on a heel, fists clutching the folds of her skirt she hastily retreated. He’d sat stunned and ashamed long after he’d lost sight of her in the enfolding darkness. The only thought that coalesced from the boiling tumult of his mind rattled over and over around his skull with sickening clarity-_

_What have I done?_

“What have you done?”

Cullen’s head snapped around at the sharp demand, “Dorian?” his voice croaked, brittle and broken by both fatigue and regret.

“Don’t _Dorian_ me! Amrita, what happened?” the mage stood planted in the middle aisle of the small Skyhold chantry.

“I should like to know that, as well,” Cassandra entered the tiny chapel, followed on the heels closely by the Spymaster.

“What..?” he shot an accusing look at Dorian who only responded with a confused shake of his head.

“He didn’t need to tell me,” Leliana interjected, “I overheard. I did tell the Seeker though,” she admitted without remorse.

“Overheard what?” Cullen frowned, only getting more confused and irritated by the moment.

“I was returning from a late walk on the battlements when I was almost bowled over by a very upset Amrita. I spent half the night alternating between trying to get an explanation out of her and trying to sooth a veritable tide of tears, neither endeavour successful. But for the last few hours I’ve been dozing in my chair where she’d cried herself to sleep in my arms. She was utterly inconsolable and wept herself into exhaustion but when I woke again she was gone…. so I ask again- What did you do?”

Cullen looked up at three indignant faces from where he still knelt before the dais, the same spot he’d been in since an hour before dawn praying, and sighed. He stood and dusted off his leathers before squaring his shoulders and gathering his resolve.

“Last night, I may have….. Amrita, she…..” Cullen faltered, he chest tightening as he relived the moment of dread he’d felt when she’d fled from him in tears. Taking a deep breath he tried again, “Rita asked me to marry her…. I,” he suddenly felt a flash of annoyance, it wasn’t their business, but he tamped it down. They were his friends and they cared for both himself and Rita, not that he felt worthy of  it in that moment. But perhaps if they knew they would be able to offer some comfort to his Ami, regardless of how they felt about him. “I declined.” He finished shortly.

“But Cullen, I thought you loved her?” Cassandra entreated, her expression melting from reproachful glare to confused pity.

“Now now, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Leliana interjected, ever insistent to have all the facts before making a judgement, “I am sure he had his reasons. We are at war, perhaps it was pragmatism that he turned her down, many a soldier would be reticent to wed before battle, rather than risk turning a new wife into a widow…”

“There are just as many others that would wish to take that risk, if only to spend whatever time left that the Maker gives them to be together,” Cassandra reasoned, her romantic core shining through the usually hard exterior.  

But Cullen ignored them, his eyes landing on the silent Tevene’s. He saw the moment Leliana’s words clicked something in the mage.

“No,” he cut off the two women, “I believe I know what this is about, and Cullen, you really should have come to see me sooner.”

“Cullen?” the Seeker asked.

When he remained closed-lipped Dorian filled them in, “Cullen came to me, several weeks after his adventures in the fade. He was concerned that the whole ordeal had had some ill effects on his already fragile health. I suspect he was considering the long term- or more accurately the possibly shortened term repercussions- and whether or not it would be kinder to cut our sweet Rita lose sooner rather than later should he be at risk of dropping dead at any moment.”

Cassandra huffed a reproving exclamation of his name- whether for contemplating hurting his sweetheart now to save her from potential hurt later, or for keeping his concerns secret, he didn’t know.

While again, Leliana was the voice of reason, “It’s not for us to decide, while I don’t agree with his conclusions it’s certainly not our place to make such an important decision for him, or to press him one way or another. But,“ she turned from the Seeker to address Cullen directly, “I hope you haven’t made your choice too rashly.”

 “ Yes, yes,” Dorian flapped an impatient hand, “I said I’d look into it but as yet we haven’t discussed my findings. I had been meaning to come to you, perhaps if I had… but, well,” he shrugged.

“Just spit it out will you!”

Dorian gave an exasperated sigh at the dark woman’s demand, but capitulated without argument, “After speaking with Solas and Cole, and examining all the evidence, I’ve determined that your life expectancy should be that of any other soldier.”

Cullen startled, and then frowned, “What does that mean?”

“There’s no reason to suspect that your life has been shortened by your experience in the fade, and in fact in your case your longevity may even have been improved by the whole thing. Your body has endured exceptionally harsh treatment, and for years! That takes quite a toll, and on top of it the extensive healing you underwent while unconscious; every drop of lyrium –both red and blue- was leached from your tissues, your blood, the very marrow in your bones! You suffered violent seizures. I’m convinced that had your spirit not been almost completely separated from your flesh, the pain of it alone would have killed you. Anyone else, and it would have. But through a combination of the stasis, your escape into the deep or just plain _stubbornness,_  you survived. Cullen, you are completely free of lyrium and you’re in better shape than you have been since you started taking it I suspect. You should expect to live a normal, full life…. barring a sword through the belly, of course.”

Cullen let the words sink in but he could hardly believe it.

“Are you certain?”

“As certain as I can be, it’s a very unusual case Cullen. I’d be happy to check you over again but Solas agrees, your body and spirit have been healed almost as though the last decade or more had never happened. You may still have nightmares, but they are no different from the shades that haunt any other soldier. You no longer have unrestricted access to the fade, now when you sleep you’re confined to a small pocket that mimics the experience of any non-mage. This bubble of yours however is reinforced and impregnable- completely secure. Previously there were no barriers between you and the deep fade, very unusual for a non-mage. I believe your past traumas can be blamed for that. In any case it was allowed the currents of the fade to simply sweep you up and toss you around like a gushing spring-swollen river- you never had a hope of keeping yourself afloat or blocking attacks. In essence you were a rudderless boat caught in a flood, totally vulnerable. I’m amazed that that’s what you were dealing with for so long, and you hadn’t gone completely mad!”

“Of that I’m not so sure,” Cullen said with a wry huff.

“You’ve always given yourself so little credit,” Cassandra spoke, a thread of awe he’d never heard in her voice before, “I had no idea it was that bad, but it only goes to prove that you have always been stronger than you believe.”

“If you can survive all you have endured thus far, I’ve no doubt you’ll return safely from the Arbor Wilds,” Leliana added.

“I’d like to think I had a hand in it,” Dorian said haughtily, “but they’re right my friend,” he clapped a companionable hand on Cullen’s shoulder, “you are the most intolerably obstinate man I’ve ever met, and you did it all on your own. I think it’s Corypheus who should be concerned about his short term life-span.”

Cullen rested his hands on the mages shoulders, “thank you, my friend, he said, before turning away and making a hasty bee-line for the exit.

“Where are you going?”

He grinned back over his shoulder, “I’m going to find my future wife, if she’ll still have me.”         

He didn’t wait to see their reactions.


	24. Take Two

It was perhaps an hour after sunrise when Cullen pushed open the door to his office in search of his Ami. She stood before his desk with her back to the door – she didn’t turn around at his entrance.

“Rita,” he said softly. He noted the flinch at his voice and tried not to let it but it still hurt. After a moments’ hesitation she straightened and turned, offering a hollow parody of the  smile she usually greeted him with.

“Your breakfast, I was going to just leave it here for you. I know you have a lot to do today but you should eat,” she indicated the tray on his desk as she spoke all in a rush, her tone infused with false cheer. That she felt she had to do that for his benefit only twisted the knife that was already buried in his heart.

“Darling, please,” he took a half step forward and lifted a hand in supplication.

“Oh, I should tell you, I’ll be practising with Sera most of the morning and then I need to take Mighty out, I haven’t kept up with his training since you got home, so I may not be back in time for lunch…” her voice began to waver against the strain of holding back, but even while she smiled her eyes glistened wet. Slumping in defeat he watched her face crumple before she was able to hide it behind her hands.

The sight of it broke him and he covered the distance between them with long strides to envelop her in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to cry, I tried not to, it’s not fair for me to put this on you…” she sobbed.

“Oh Ami, no, it’s me that should be apologising!” he raised her chin in his hand, entreating her to look at him. When she did the sadness in them was overwhelming.

“Please, you don’t have to do that. None of this is your fault, we’ve never discussed… I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that. Just please, don’t leave because of this? Just pretend it never happened?” she was pleading with _him_ not to leave _her_! Cullen thought he felt his heart actually tear in two.

He had to set things right, and Maker take him if he ever caused her to feel this way again.

“I’m not going to leave you, my sweet girl, how could I? I’d sooner cut off a limb! Ami, I love you, more than you can possibly imagine, and I _want_ to marry you. I want to… to have a family with you… I just wasn’t sure I’d live long enough to give you the kind of life you deserve. But now… things are different now.”

Big brown eyes stare widely up at him red-rimmed and damp, Rita’s upturned face still cradled in his hand. He tenderly traced the contours of her face with a fingertip, brushing a dark tendril of hair over an ear. Even tear-stained and blotchy she was utterly captivating, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen- and she wanted to marry _him!_ How could he ever have said no?

“I don’t understand?”

Cullen held her close tucking her into his chest, the familiar shape of her against him sending his heart into a stutter. That she’d believed even for a moment that he could live without this was unthinkable. For a moment he couldn’t speak. He breathed her in, running his hands over any part of her he could reach, letting his touch sooth them both.

Kissing her hair he breathed deep before pulling back enough to look her in the eye. How to even begin to explain Cullen didn’t know, and he realised now that his first mistake was keeping his worries from Rita in the first place. He filed that away as a lesson learned, and hoped that there would be future opportunities for him to use it if it didn’t now cost him her love.

“I know now that I should have just discussed this with you rather than keeping it to myself, I can see how this all could have been avoided if only I had.”

“Cullen?”

“I always knew that my life would be short, as a soldier, a Templar particularly. Then when I stopped taking lyrium, I knew that it could kill me but it was more important for me to be free of it than to live longer still chained by it. Then I met you,” he smiled hesitantly and stroked his fingers in an arc around her ear, letting the silken strands of her mahogany hair slide over them, “I questioned my decision, but ultimately I knew that at the risk of an early death I couldn’t provide any kind of life for you still in the grip of that blue poison”

Rita clung to him, fingers clenched in his shirt as she looked up into his eyes. Cullen could see the worry behind the warm brown he loved, it was the tension he’d been trying to save her from by not telling her about his concerns in the first place.

Now he knew that there were worse things, like almost losing her completely, and he hoped never to be the cause of such hurt as he’d caused her last night ever again.

“After the fade, I knew how close to I’d come to the end of it all, I thought the toll on my body would have caused even more damage. I lived, but for how long? My health was already on tenterhooks, how much more punishment could it really stand? So I went to see Dorian. He was to look into things, see if there was any permanent damage. I wanted to know if my time was now measured in months rather than years."

Cullen tightened his arms around the trembling woman who’d become the word to him. The thought of leaving her, even for her own good was almost unbearable. That pain was eclipsed only by the unforgivable selfishness of knowingly widowing her before they’d even have a chance to get used to being married. It was this motivation that sent him to Dorian and kept her in the dark.

“I’m sorry, love. It was foolish of me, I wanted only to protect you but ended up hurting you more. It was the last thing I wanted to do.” He kissed her hair and breathed a heavy sigh, resting his forehead to hers.

‘Okay….’ She nodded consideringly, “Okay, I understand why. But Cullen,” she pulled back, concern written plainly on her face, “what did Dorian say? Are you going to be alright?”

“Dorian, if I’d just gone to see him a day sooner,” he shook his head with a huff, “Dorian assures me I’ll be around for some time yet, maybe even a few years more than I would have before the fade.”

“So, you’re not-”  Rita swallowed thickly, shaking fingertips rested against his cheek, “You’re going to be….”

Cullen nodded, brushing a lock behind her ear, “I’m better than ever, actually. Ami, I’m free of it, the lyrium,” his voice dropped, “For good. The healing I underwent while unconscious, it undid the last 10 years of damage. It’s almost like none of it any happened, physically anyway.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed in obvious relief. Reaching up, Rita stood on her tiptoes and gripped the sides of his head to pull his mouth down to hers. He bent easily, capturing her lips between his own. The familiar taste of her, the warm press of her mouth, her tongue; it sent sparks through his blood. How could he have considered walking away from her?

Deepening their kiss Cullen wrapped his arms about her and drew her higher up, he couldn’t hold her close enough.      

Breaking away Cullen cradled one dainty hand reverently between his two, citrine eyes looked imploringly into warm deep brown. He let his gaze infuse with every ounce of love her felt for her, lifting the veil the show his heart in a way he hadn’t since he was a child.

“Cullen,” she breathed, drawing one fingertip down his scar to pull at his bottom lip. From her expression she was expecting to be taken upstairs. But not yet. There was something Cullen wanted more in this moment than to make love to his sweetheart. He took a deep breath-

“My Ami, my perfect love, unworthy though I am I wish to accept your proposal to become your Husband, if you'll still have me?”

Amrita’s eyes flew wide, pink lips parted on a surprised exhale before spreading into a brilliant smile. “If I'll still have you? ….Yes, Cullen, yes I still want to marry you!” She flung her arms about his neck and kissed him hard, a kiss he returned with a heart full of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole month! Sorry, about that. I've written myself into a corner, this wasn't meant to have much detail but there you go. Now working out some plot points and ensuring I can wrap it all up neatly, hopefully by the end we'll have a nice little story :)


	25. The Lion's Claimed

“Cullen, lover, fiancé…” Rita hummed between kisses, unable to suppress the wide grin at the taste of his title and his tongue both. Cullen chuckled into her mouth as she kissed him again; she couldn’t seem to stop doing that.

“Yes, fiancé?” he replied, voice molten with lust.

Rita moaned as his tongue followed his words down her throat. She lost a few minutes as they simply enjoyed each other. When she could speak, Rita managed only four words-

“Take me to bed.”

Which a loud whoop Rita found herself flung over a broad shoulder, having the distinct pleasure of watching Cullen’s firm ass and powerful thighs work as he carried her up the stairs to their room. He yelped when she couldn’t help herself but to reach down and grab a handful of cheek, and laughed when he retaliated with a sharp smack on her own behind.

She squeezed again, “I can’t wait to get my teeth into this.”

“First things first,” he tipped forward and dumped her on the bed, then wasted no time climbing over the top of her. Pinning her hands to the mattress he kissed her hard before divesting her of her clothing.

Items flew and fluttered towards all corners of the room, settling where they fell and before long they were both bare- a perfect arc of teeth marks branded into the meat of Cullen’s ass.

“Mine,” she said possessively, rubbing her finger over the fresh made indents. Cullen growled and hooked an arm around her middle, tossing her into the middle of the bed and covered her with his rippling bulk. Rita’s breath sped up at the feel of all that muscle pressing down on her. This was hers; the broad shoulders, narrow hips, round ass, gold eyes, strong hands, and pure heart – all hers. Her sex throbbed at the thought and she wrapped her long legs around his waist, arms about his neck and pulled him closer.

His kiss was deep and raw, his heart on his tongue and she revelled in it. Her man, her warrior- Cullen was everything she didn’t know she needed but couldn’t live without. That she’d come so close to losing him only deepened her desire for him. Their hands were everywhere; teasing, stroking, squeezing – she slid her fingers into his beloved curls and gripped as he plundered her mouth with his.   

So lost in each other they didn’t hear the door in the office open, unaware of their guest until a tentative voice called up the stairs,  “Co-commander?”

Rita felt Cullen’s heartfelt groan through rumble through her whole body. She buried her face in his chest, biting on a mouthful of peck to muffle her laughter.

“Jim?”

“Ye-yessir, I was sent to fetch you for the morning war council ser. You’re late.”

“I’m, ah… off duty. Maybe for the day,” he bit back a moan as Rita’s hand made its way between them and wrapped around his hard cock, “yes, definitely for the day,” he managed to keep his voice mostly steady.

“Please lock the doors and make sure I’m not disturbed until, until further notice.”

“Are you alright ser? Are you ill?”

It wasn’t an unusual question, in the past Cullen had had enough bad days that all his close staff knew at any time they might find him unwell. But not anymore.

Cullen grinned down at her, eyes sparkling with mirth and want in equal measure, “Never better,” he called down before burying his face in the crook of Amrita’s neck and sucking, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Oh! Ah, yes, ser, I’ll make sure you are not disturbed. Ser. Ma’am!” Jim’s voice faded as he retreated quickly from the tower. Rita could practically hear the young man blushing and the thought only made her laugh harder.

“Poor Jim,” she chortled.

“Poor Jim! What about poor me?”

“Why poor you? You seem pretty happy to me,” her hand still moved in slow light strokes over his rigid cock between them, she gave it a little squeeze drawing out another strained groan from her lover.

“Woman, you’ll be the death of me,” he growled.

“Don’t even joke, you’re not allowed to die, ever,” Rita commanded, tightening her whole bodies’ grip around his.

Cullen’s eyes soften, “Alright, love,” he murmured a low reply.

“I love you, Cullen.”

He smiled softly before dropping a gentle kiss to her lips. Rita’s heart leaped and stuttered, fear and passion at war within her. This man- no one had ever made her feel the way he did, not in this world or the last.

“Promise me?” she whispered.

“Sweetheart-“

“Lie to me.”

Cullen brushed a fingertip down her cheek, his honeyed gaze intently flickering over her face for long moments before he answered, “Alright,” he said lowly, “I promise.”

Rita stretched up to capture his mouth with hers, her kiss hot and insistent as she infused it with all her love and desire for him. Her fiancé.

Between them her hand guided him to her waiting heat, she teased her bud with the tip though it was hardly necessary- everything about him turned her on. Without breaking the kiss she tilted him back to her slick hole and he slowly worked to seat his full length deep within her. She sighed, head tipped back and eyes closed at the delicious stretch and feeling of fullness. No-one had ever satisfied her the way he did.

“Cullen, make love to me. Please…”

Obliging her breathless request he began to move in long languid strokes, grinding her core and clit both at the deepest point of penetration. It drove her wild and he knew it. They moved together in a familiar and beloved dance, his powerful form undulating above which she writhed below. It wasn’t the first time they’d lost themselves in it, the ebb and flow of love and lust, tender and timeless.

The heady fog of sex wrapped itself around her, blocking out everything outside of the sense of him. The sensation of his skin gliding over hers, his scent, his taste – whenever they fucked it was a whole body experience, all her senses were attuned to him and overwhelmed by it, it was like nothing she’d ever known before. More than sex it was a desire for _him_ – it was a wanting that no-one else could sate, no other cock would do, no other mouth, or touch. It was pure, selfless love.

Panting now as she was drawn upwards by his careful ministrations toward that bright peak, Rita dug her fingers into the taut skin of his back that bucked and bowed above her. The sounds of her pleasure loud and unrestrained tumbled from her lips in a universal call that reached beyond language or boarders. Her song rose as her lover tended her, knowing just how and where to touch, to lick, to thrust to make her bloom.

Rita’s cry rang from the rafters as Cullen pushed her over that edge, the molten heat swept through her body sending every nerve into overdrive. She was only dimly aware of his fist between them, clutching hard at the root of his cock as her core clenched and throbbed around it.

Collapsing back to the pillows as all the tension left her limbs, slack and sated Rita could only drift gasping on the receding tide of her orgasm. When finally she could wrench her eyes open Cullen was still on his knees hovering over her, one hand gripping tightly to his still-erect dick and the other shaking as it barely held him up.

“Cullen, you didnt...”

His smile was hot and predatory, his chest heaving with the effort to stem his own orgasm, “I’m not done with you yet, my love,” he purred, before abruptly pushing back to sit on his heels and flipping her onto her stomach in one swift move.

She felt the slick weight of him lowered onto her back, his hard cock settling into the crack of her ass as he began to lick and kiss and nibble her neck and shoulders. His hands roamed the expanse of her skin, setting tingling trails of heat wherever they touched. Rita groaned at the loss when he suddenly pulled away, his large mass replaced by two strong hands on her hips lifted her rear in the air until she got her knees under her. Her pulse quickened; yes her beautiful man had made sweet and tender love to her, but now his intent was clear- the lion wanted to fuck.

Hands moved from her hips to reach beneath and tease; rough fingers tweaked at sensitive nipples while others wormed their way between wet and swollen folds to stroke her back to bliss.

“Hold onto the headboard love,” Cullen’s deep gravelled command made her core flex, shooting pleasure deep within her. Unable to do anything but obey she gripped the plain wooden headpiece until her knuckled turned white.

“Good, that’s a good girl. My wife…” his hot breath tickled the hair behind her ear and shivered down her neck.

“Aha, not your wife yet,” she panted out, “you have to earn that, husband,” she teased.

“It that so?”

Rita nodded and tipped her head to the side in a silent plea- he knew what she wanted and her whole body jolted as his teeth clamped down on the curve where neck met shoulder. Claimed - as a lion claims his mate- a sign of his dominance, marking her as his own.

A low growl of her own curled up and out as her master once again sheathed himself in her slick and pliant body in one controlled push. Caught between the pressure of his sucking lips and the pressure inside her Rita couldn’t help but surrender to the rapidly climbing pleasure.

With one thick arm wrapped tightly around her middle and the other joining hers on the bed frame Cullen began to move. Where before he’d made love to her with fluid grace and rolling hips, now he fucked her with all the power in his bulging muscles and it was exquisite!

Unable to move Amrita hung suspended in pleasure while her lover speared her over and over again, the rapid pace leaving her no time to think, only to feel. He rode her hard, angled just right to pound at her sweet centre, his teeth still planted firmly over her pulse. His grunts made a delicious counterpoint to her low keening as they coupled, the beast in him all but erasing the sweet, kind man that everyone else thought they knew. This was a side of him reserved only for her, and his enemies in battle – ferocious, single-minded, and deadly.

Their skin dewed with sweat, breath laboured under the intensity of the pace he’d set, Rita reached the edge of a second peak. She could feel him pulsing and hard within her and knew he was close too. Reaching up Rita twisted her fingers into his blonde locks and pulled, Cullen’s reaction was immediate and violent as she knew it would be. She arched and pushed backward into the hard thrust of his hips as he came with a roar, burying him deep and milking him with the forceful clench and release of her cunt as she followed him over into the abyss.

Gently as the haze of afterglow settled over them Cullen lowered her to her back before flopping down beside her. His fingers idly drew a meandering pattern across her abdomen as they lay gasping side by side, his other arm draped limply over his eyes.

Recovering basic functions first Amrita rolled to press her front down the length of his heaving body, and tilted beneath his elbow to press a lazy kiss to his slack mouth. After a moment he responded, and they lay for endless minutes indulging in the sweetness of each other’s lips.

Finally, once breath and pulse alike had regained a more natural tempo, Cullen holding her close, the ability to speak once again returned to them.  

“And now, Ami? Are you my wife now?” he asked lowly, tracing the contours of her neck and jaw with the tip of his nose while peppering tiny kisses to her cooling skin.

“Oh yes, yours now, and forever. Husband.” She replied, and kissed him again.


	26. On a cold, clear night.

While the Keep prepared itself for the campaign to the Arbor wilds, Amrita and her selected musicians prepared for the Inquisitor’s final event. Secreted away for hours of each day to an unused chamber beneath the main hall they practiced for the performance that the whole evening hinged on. Rita felt the pressure as a first time composer to do well by the trust that had been placed in her, but luckily she’d found an outlet in her fiancé. Cullen didn’t have a single complaint about that.

They hadn’t widely announced their change in status, but those few close friends of the inner circle always seemed to have other ways of getting such information. When Rita had been invited to attend the war council the morning after Cullen had played hooky, nothing was said about his absence the day before but the knowing looks on every face was clear enough. Cullen blushed when the spymaster arched an eyebrow at him, shooting a pointed look at where their hands were linked as they entered the chamber, but Rita could only grin in return when that gaze was turned on her. The inquisitor smiled softly but made no comment, and began the meeting that outlined their plan of action for the upcoming gala.  

When her part was done Cullen walked her to the doors, planting a sweet kiss to her upturned lips before she took her leave. As he secured the doors behind her she heard the distinct lilting accent of the bard- no doubt too polite to have done it in front of her the Sister had no compunctions against teasing the Inquisition’s Commander among the core council. Rita didn’t mind a bit when later that evening she’d been punished for leaving him at the mercy of three relentless woman for the rest of the morning.

Now, with a bare week until the army was scheduled to move out, Amrita’s concert was only 2 days away, and her anxious tossing and turning was keeping both herself and her lover from their sleep.

After the fifth errant limb jolted Cullen from the edge of sleep he finally gave up. Turning to face his fiancé in their shared bed Cullen reached a heavy hand to cup her face and draw her attention.

“Ami, sweetheart, I love you but please tell me what’s bothering you so we can both get some sleep?” he chided gently.

“I’m sorry I woke you love, I’m just so nervous! I’ll try to lay still, you need to rest…” she trailed off as Cullen turned from her swinging his feet to the floor, and reached for a pair of loose pants. “Cullen, where are you going?” she asked, a tinge of worry in her voice.

Cullen just smiled, “Up,” he instructed, a crooked smile on his lips, “put on some clothes,” he said as he pulled a shirt over his head. Rita looked dubious but she pushed the covers back and stood to pull on her robe and a pair of slippers. When both were somewhat dressed Cullen took her hand and led them down into the deeply shadowed office, a pale sliver of white light cut through the dim room from the narrow window facing the snow-capped peaks of the Frostbacks.

Leading his curious lover onto the battlements they walked in undisturbed silence. Twice they passed a guard on the wall, Cullen offering a flick of fingers in acknowledgement before moving on without interruption. Opening a door to one of the disused towers Cullen ushered Rita into the dusty gloom with a warm hand at the small of her back. She looked up at him, more curious now with a hint of a smile on her full lips but said nothing. They made their way to the uppermost floor, climbing a rickety ladder. A plume of dust danced in the sudden brilliant white as he pushed the trapdoor open and helped lift Rita through the hole to stand on the roof. Cullen watched her face intently as she took in the view.

The first time he’d made his way up here on one of his many sleepless nights rambling about the keep, it had taken Cullen’s breath away. Standing atop the tower with nothing but empty air between him and the immense white-toped sentinels that made up the Frostback Mountains. The air, so crisp and clear, made the plump sphere of the moon seem almost close enough to reach up and touch. Its wide glowing fullness reflected its cool light onto the frozen tundra, making the snowy mantles gleam in a crystalline sheen that sparkled more than any jewel. Faced with the vast landscape, cheeks and nose pink and numb with the chill, Cullen’s problems has seemed to shrink. He felt as a speck, one part of a huge and unfathomable thing, and as his perspective adjusted so did his stress lessen, and somehow everything that had been weighing him down became more manageable.

Whenever he’d needed a reminder of that, or to reclaim that sense of calm and peace he’d returned, and it never failed to still his mind in a way nothing else had- until Amrita.

All of that he saw now in Rita now, her eyes wide and glittering with awe and moonlight, her perfect lips forming a soft “oh”. Standing behind her, his hands resting on her slender shoulders, Cullen felt the tension drain away, felt her breathing slow and deepen as he’d felt in himself each time he came here. At the slight tremor that rippled through her fame at the chill Cullen wrapped his arms about her and pulled her into his chest and pressed his nose into the warm curve of her neck as she took in the healing serenity of their surrounds, and just breathed.

After a time, Cullen felt a gentle brush of tiny, cold fingertips on his cheek, jolting him from a light doze. He looked up into Ami’s eyes that wrinkled with warm mirth.

“Did you fall asleep my love?” her voice was soft and accompanied by wisps of fog as her breath met the icy air.

Giving her a firm squeeze and pressing kiss to her chilling skin Cullen straightened and felt his back pop- they’d been standing there longer than he thought. He blinked blearily as he roused himself, “Do you feel better, my love?” he asked, brushing a thumb along her pink cheek.

“I do. Thank you,” Rita raised herself up on tip-toe, chin canted to invite a kiss which he happily gave. Her lips, twin icicles against his own were just as sweet as always, and he hummed in contentment at their taste.

“Let’s get you back to bed then, my dear,” he replied when they parted, “perhaps we’ll both get a few hours of sleep before morning.” With another brief brush of lips Cullen turned to help her back through the trapdoor and through the levels of the tower.

They huddled together against the cold and made their way hurriedly back to their quarters. Undressing they quickly burrowed together into their blankets, though the bed was cold Cullen ran hot and knew it wouldn’t be long before they both began to thaw from their late night excursion. He swallowed a very unmanly yelp as two frozen feet pressed against his calves, and smiled to himself when matching pinpoints that were both fingers and a nose crowded elsewhere on his skin. Wrapping his arms about his fiancé, and with a final loving kiss to her head, Cullen soon drifted off to the fade with the smell of her vanilla hair in his lungs.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O a chapter! WTF Wombat! I know, it's been a while, I've been distracted and have less writing time these days with spring. But have this fluffy little interlude I whipped up for you ;) 
> 
> (unbeta'd and probs full of mistakes- forgive me)

**Author's Note:**

> Songs:
> 
> Dr Hook -Sweetest of All  
> Alannah Myles- Black Velvet  
> Fleetwood Mac - Dreams  
> Melissa Etheridge - Like the Way I Do  
> Dr Hook- Sexy Eyes  
> Donovan - Catch the Wind  
> Missy Higgins - All for Believing  
> Dolly Parton- Somebody's Missing You  
> Yiruma - River Flows in You (piano piece #1)  
> Ella Henderson- I'm Yours  
> Kenny Rogers - The Gambler  
> Meagan Mullally (cover Ella Fitzgerald) - The Long John Blues  
> Cathy Heller - Be Brave  
> Sleeping at Last - I'll Keep You Safe  
> Sam Cooke - Falling in Love  
> Rag ' n' Bone Man - Grace  
> Celine Dion - If that's what it Takes


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